Ghost Knight
by Anne Khushrenada
Summary: Dead and yet living, Treize seeks the truth of his existence. But when an enigmatic enemy plots to use Treize's children to further her own ends, that quest becomes something more. Treize finds he must fight one last battle, for the fate of all he loves.
1. Lost Star

Title: Ghost Knight (1/?)  
Author: Anne Khushrenada  
Email: cray@syix.com  
Disclaimer: I don't *sniff* own *sniff* Gundam Wing.  
Warnings: Angst, maybe a little OOC (Zechs, Wufei)  
  
Gone.  
  
He was gone.  
  
The words seemed to echo through Lady Une's mind, as   
she watched the fiery death of the Tallgeese II- and   
its pilot. Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she   
clenched her hands into fists, fought back the tears,   
and shouted her orders, her /final/ orders, in a   
voice that betrayed none of her own inner turmoil.  
  
Then she turned away from them, away from Relena   
Peacecraft, Sally Po, away from Howard and the ex-OZ   
officers who had formed the Treize faction. She   
turned away from them all and strode towards the   
'lift, and none of them dared to call her back.  
  
"Damn you, Treize," she whispered. And she wept,   
bitter sobs shaking her body, as she slid down the   
wall towards the floor. She curled there and listened   
to the furious pounding of her heart, the quickness   
of the breaths she drew, tasted the salt of her tears   
as they touched her lips.  
  
"Oh, Treize..."  
  
* * *  
  
"Where is she?"  
  
Sally Po looked up at the sound of the vaguely   
familiar voice, her hands still busy tending the last   
of her own minor wounds, cuts and scrapes suffered in   
the furious dash from Peacemillion to MO2.  
  
The man standing in the doorway removed his helmet,   
and Sally let out a little gasp. Zechs Merquise   
brushed a strand of hair out of his eye, ice blue   
eyes seeming as if he meant to look right through   
her.  
  
"Noin? She's with Relena, I think. Trying to convince   
her that Heero's leaving isn't the end of the world.   
But what do you care?"  
  
Zechs shook his head. "Not Noin, Sally. Lady Une.   
Where is she?"  
  
"I don't know," Sally replied. "The OZ officers-   
former OZ officers, whatever -have been kind of   
keeping to themselves. Howard might know, he's been   
talking with their techs. What's so important about-  
?"  
  
But Zechs had already gone, replacing his helmet as   
he turned and walked away into the corridor.  
  
To his more than slight distress, Zechs found Wufei   
Chang before he found Lady Une. The Chinese boy was   
seated in the middle of a deserted hallway, his   
katana balanced over his knees.  
  
"You killed him," Zechs said rather flatly. "His life   
was mine to take."  
  
Wufei looked up at him, and Zechs was surprised to   
see the young man's expression was grief-stricken.   
"You were too weak to kill him. You refused his   
challenge. But he was determined to fight, and as I   
told him, I would keep coming back until I killed   
him."  
  
"Which you've done."  
  
"Yes," Wufei said. "And I find this victory   
bittersweet." He rose smoothly to his feet. "What do   
you want?"  
  
"The same things I have always wanted. Peace for   
Earth and space, even though I cannot have peace for   
myself. Goodbye."  
  
"Zechs!" Wufei called after him.  
  
Zechs turned back, but did not speak.  
  
"I thought you were dead," Wufei said.  
  
"I am."  
  
* * *  
  
Une looked up slowly as the lift's doors opened, her   
eyes taking in the red-and-black spacesuit and the   
matching helmet which obscured the features of   
whomever had joined her.  
  
He knelt beside her, and removed his helmet. "Lady,"   
said Zechs.  
  
"Mister Peacecraft," Une said, in a voice that caught   
in her throat.  
  
Zechs shook his head. "Milliardo Peacecraft is as   
dead as Zechs Merquise, Lady."  
  
"Who are you, then?"  
  
"I honestly do not know," Zechs replied. He reached   
out a gloved hand to the floor beside her. "This seat   
taken?"  
  
"No," Une said. Then: "What would he think of me now,   
Zechs? Am I weak, or foolish, to be crying like this   
on the floor of an elevator?"  
  
Zechs chuckled softly. "I think he might say that   
while it lacked grace, allowances must be made for   
the situation. Here." He produced a handkerchief and   
handed it to her. "He truly could not ever judge you   
harshly, Lady."  
  
"Oh?" she asked, dabbing at her eyes with the cloth.  
  
"He loved you, Lady. I thought- everyone knew that."  
  
"I didn't," she said, and began to weep again. Zechs   
reached out, almost hesitantly, to embrace her.  
  
*Forgive me, old friend,* he thought, as the woman   
his best friend had loved sobbed against him. *She   
needs someone to cling to now who will think nothing   
of this- and who will never speak of it again.*  
  
"God," said Une. "God help me, what have I done?   
Treize-"  
  
"Would understand that those who loved him need to   
cry, Lady," Zechs replied. "This may sound a bit   
forward, but could I buy you a drink? I'd like to   
share a few things with you, and I'm afraid I'm   
incapable of doing it sober."  
  
Une gave a shaky smile and a nod. "Treize keeps-" She   
sighed. "He *kept* the officer's mess fairly well   
stocked, and you know his tastes ran to the finer   
things."  
  
"Perfect," Zechs said, standing and offering her a   
hand up.  
  
* * *  
  
"To His Excellency," Lady Une said, raising her glass   
and touching it to Zechs'. "He was..."  
  
"Beyond words, Lady," Zechs said. "To His Excellency.   
My dearest friend, my worst enemy."  
  
"To Treize," said Une softly. "Your brother, my   
love."  
  
"Ah," said Zechs with a sip of his wine. "Yes,   
exactly. My brother. How did you-?"  
  
"He told me things," Une said quietly. "Things I   
don't know that he told anyone else."  
  
"Likewise," said Zechs. "I wonder how many of the   
same stories we've heard."  
  
Une laughed softly. "Very few, I should think. There   
were things he'd have told me but not you, and some   
of these I will not share with you now. Likewise I am   
sure the same is true for you."  
  
"It may be," Zechs agreed.   
  
* * *  
  
"...and then he turned to me and said, 'My dear,   
would you care to dance?' I'm a wretched dancer, and   
told him so, but he didn't seem to care."  
  
"He wouldn't," Zechs said. "And Treize had enough   
grace to make up for anyone else's lack. Did you   
dance with him?"  
  
Une raised an eyebrow at him and refilled her glass   
of the well-aged Merlot.  
  
"That," she said over the rim of her glass, "is   
privileged information." At Zechs' blank look she   
added, "What, you think I don't know the slang terms   
your generation uses these days?"  
  
"Oh," said Zechs, a blush creeping up his cheeks.   
"*Oh*. Although," he added, "if you *had*- and I'm   
not asking, Lady! -you'd have been his first."  
  
"Might one inquire- simply out of curiosity, mind-   
how you know that?"  
  
"You mean to tell me that women don't discuss these   
things?" Zechs asked. "Although Treize was far more   
discreet than anyone else I've ever known. It's   
really a matter of a thing he said to me once, years   
ago, when you first went to work for him. The day   
after that assassination attempt-"  
  
"Ah," said Une. "That I remember. Typical of   
Romafeller to hire an assassin who couldn't hit the   
broad side of a Leo..."  
  
"Still, you risked your life to save his, and an hour   
or so later, he was pacing around my apartment,   
throwing up his hands in confusion, one moment   
cursing your stupidity, the next exalting your   
bravery. Then he stopped short, dropped his hands,   
looked up at me and said, 'I love her.' And I said   
'Really, old boy? I hadn't a clue'. I believe he   
threw something at me- but that was the beginning of   
it, I think."  
  
"And what was it he said which made you believe that   
I'd have been-"  
  
"He said, that same eve, 'She will be my first, my   
last, and my only- if only she would have me, Zechs'.   
Treize- flirted a lot, you probably noticed. It was   
something his family insisted he learn- there's an   
art to it, and there was never an art that Treize   
didn't excel at."  
  
"And he'd be the first to tell you that, of course,"   
Une said.  
  
"Exactly so. He flirted a lot, charmed up the   
daughters of his father's business partners, and the   
wives of the Romafeller executives, but it never went   
any farther beyond that, and I knew it well."  
  
"He brought me roses the next day, after that   
attempt," Une said. "At least two dozen of them. To   
say thank you, he said. 'For what, sir?' I asked. 'I   
was only doing my duty.' But he shook his head, and I   
knew *he* knew- it had always been more than that."  
  
"Treize was perceptive as few people are," Zechs   
said. "But if you knew, and *he* knew-?"  
  
"I believe he wanted things to be perfect, before he   
said anything directly," Une replied. "He always did   
think he could change the world."  
  
"He did," Zechs said. "He changed it, and I nearly   
destroyed it. That was always the difference between   
us. Or one of them."  
  
"He spoke of you on occasion," Une said. "Not only as   
being one of the best soldiers serving OZ, but as the   
brother he'd never had. He loved you. Your leaving OZ   
tore something within him, something he wouldn't   
admit, but which I clearly saw. He felt as if not   
only had he betrayed you- because why else would you   
have forsaken OZ? -but that he had betrayed all he   
stood for."  
  
"Even drunk, he always had to wrestle the hard   
questions. He couldn't leave it to somebody else."  
  
"What makes you think he was drunk?" Une asked.  
  
Zechs simply tapped the bottle between them on the   
table. "We were children together. He was my elder,   
my protector, my mentor. I spent my childhood glued   
to his shadow. I saw nearly everything."  
  
"I would say that he was on the line between only   
vaguely sober and extremely drunk. It was almost   
charming in a way, though. The way he started   
slurring those poetic phrases of his."  
  
Zechs laughed. "You only find it charming because you   
never had to fetch him aspirin and a basin the   
morning after. Although he did have an amusing little   
pout he'd wear all through those mornings..."  
  
Une laughed softly. "I can very easily see that," she   
said.  
  
* * *  
  
"...Treize's father said, 'Treize! Where's the   
furniture gotten off to?' And Treize said, 'I'm   
sorry, sir, but Milliardo and I had need of it. To   
defend against the enemy, you know.' And looking   
quite fearful, Treize's father said, 'Who's the   
enemy, son?' And Treize said, 'Cousin Dorothy.' His   
father asked who was winning, and Treize rolled his   
eyes. 'We are, of course. Would you go aide Dorothy,   
please? I don't believe it's fair, otherwise.' And   
the old Duke did just that."  
  
The level in the wine bottle had steadily decreased,   
and was now mostly empty. Tears streamed down Lady   
Une's cheeks as she laughed, and Zechs looked at the   
bottle as if its decreased contents were the wine's   
own fault.  
  
"Thank you, Zechs," Une said. "For telling me these   
things..."  
  
"You are welcome, Lady. Thank you for sharing what   
you did."  
  
A discreet tapping at the door caused them both to   
look up.  
  
Dorothy Catalonia stepped into the room, her eyes   
red-rimmed and puffy. "Is this a private wake," she   
asked quietly, "or can anyone join?"  
  
"Have a seat, Dorothy," Une said, rising to her feet.   
"We're going to need another bottle, though..." 


	2. Love Eternal

Title: Ghost Knight (2/?)  
Author: Anne Khushrenada  
Email: cray@syix.com  
Disclaimer: I don't *sniff* own *sniff* Gundam Wing.  
Warnings: Angst, Sap, and L-E-M-O-N. NC-17,   
yadayadayada...   
  
AC 199  
Summer  
  
Life was, all things considered, going well enough   
for Lady Une. In the wake of the Eve Wars, when   
everyone else had been perfectly willing to forsake   
the orphaned child of Treize Khushrenada, Une had   
taken Mariemaia in, at first only because of her   
undying love for the girl's father, but she quickly   
grew to love the child as if Mariemaia were her own.  
  
At times her adopted daughter could still be   
amazingly difficult, and Une knew that her   
experiences during the events leading up to the Eve   
Wars had left the nine-year-old quite troubled. But   
Une herself had not emerged from the Wars unscathed,   
and so she and the girl had quite a bit in common.  
  
Une worked now with the former Gundam pilots and   
their allies of old, Sally Po, Lucrezia Noin, and, at   
last completing what until then had seemed to be   
missing something, Milliardo Peacecraft. Together   
they formed the organization known as the Preventers,   
and worked to keep conflicts in the world from   
escalating into wars.  
  
Many of the others had married, started families.   
Une, of course, had not, nor did any of them expect   
her to. She had Mariemaia and she had her work, and   
if it was not enough, it would simply have to do, for   
there existed nothing else that could be hers.  
  
Une went to bed each night exhausted, between the   
usual trials of her workday and the rather   
unpredictable ones involving Mariemaia. On this   
particular night, however, the child had gone to bed   
without any problems, although as always Une never   
knew when one of Mariemaia's nightmares would wake   
her from a sound sleep.  
  
As she often did once Mariemaia was asleep and the   
house had grown quiet, Une sat upon her bed, facing   
the nightstand and the framed photograph of Treize   
which rested there. Some nights she simply looked at   
him and wept; others she told him of her day, of how   
Mariemaia had grown, of the lovely young woman she   
was sure his daughter was fated to become.  
  
Tonight she told him of her own troubles, of the way   
things simply /were/ /not/ /right/, and the way those   
around her looked at her as if they thought she'd   
lost her mind.  
  
"There is something missing here, my love, something   
crucial. It is not just the fact that you are gone.   
It is that, and everything else. Oh, Treize, why did   
you have to leave me? Why?"  
  
Lady Une wept that night as she had not done in   
years, sorrow washing over her in waves, leaving her   
alone, desolate and cold.  
  
* * *  
  
The Place Between Worlds  
  
He sat beside the Well of Souls, legs folded beneath   
him, gazing downward into the crystal waters of the   
pool as he had time and time again. The world grew   
and changed, and he saw it all from this cruel   
window- able to look, but not to touch. And though   
his child grew, and the years took their toll upon   
the woman he loved, he did not know how long it had   
truly been. That knowledge, like so much more, was   
forbidden him here.  
  
"You must not dwell upon the past," spoke a voice   
from behind him. He did not bother to turn to face   
the cloaked specter, but his gaze upon the pool   
turned defiant.  
  
"What else have I but my past?" he countered.  
  
"They go on without you, Ghost Knight."  
  
He rose to his feet then, reaching out a hand to   
grasp the ice-cold arm of Death, and draw the specter   
to the edge of the pool. "Look upon her. She does not   
go on without me; she cannot. And she is right; there   
/is/ something missing."  
  
"I could have brought her to you all the sooner, but   
you would not have it," Death rasped.  
  
The man Death called Ghost Knight shook his head.   
"Deny her life, for my own pleasure? She wanted to   
die, but it was not her time, and I told you so. Her   
work is not yet done; she knows it, as do I. But   
there must be something that can be done..."  
  
"No," said Death. "The spirits of the dead may not   
touch the worlds of the living."  
  
"I have done it." The Ghost Knight's tone was quite   
defiant, as defiant as anyone might ever be to the   
specter of Death. And it was true that he had   
managed, in the past, to affect the physical world.   
In small ways only, but he had done it. Though he had   
failed to do that which he desired most- to enable   
his daughter and the woman he loved to sense his   
presence, to know that he looked in upon them, to   
feel his love and admiration for them both.  
  
"You have taken foolish risks, Ghost Knight, risks   
that could have-"  
  
"Could have, what? Damned me? I am already damned.   
Unable to move forward, unable to go back."  
  
"Refusing to move forward," Death corrected. "If you   
would only do as the other souls did, you would   
remember naught of this pain you feel."  
  
"I will die again before I forget her," the Ghost   
Knight, Treize Khushrenada, replied.   
  
"Treize..." sobbed Lady Une. "Treize... I was never   
able to say good-bye. If only I could have..."  
  
As if those words had shocked him into action, he   
turned towards Death, one hand upraised. "I ask a   
boon of you, old friend."  
  
"What is it?" asked the specter.  
  
"You can make me flesh and blood again."  
  
"Yes," said Death dryly. "That is a part of what your   
kind terms reincarnation. If you would simply follow   
the Path as everyone else..."  
  
"I," said Treize, "am not everyone else. And I'm   
quite serious." Death's sense of humor had never   
failed to send chills down his spine; some things   
simply should not be joked about, in his opinion. Of   
course, who was he to argue with Death?  
  
"Yes, you would be." Death spoke again, seriously   
this time. "What you say is true. I can make you   
flesh and blood- but only for a short time."  
  
"How short a time?"  
  
"From sunrise to sunset, or vice versa. In between,   
you could do as you would. But when the time comes,   
you /must/ return- you /will/ return, no matter what   
you might do to prevent it."  
  
"I will return," Treize said. "Willingly, I shall   
even go forward from this point. But I /must/ see her   
again. I must touch her, one last time."  
  
"As you wish. But know that nothing I offer you comes   
without a price."  
  
"Name it; it is yours. Only grant me this."  
  
"You must hear what I would ask, then make your   
choice," Death said. "I am the past as well as the   
future; do not think I know not what you plan. I take   
nothing before its time, but know that if you go to   
her, one which is dear to you will be mine."  
  
"All souls return to you in time. I accept your   
terms."  
  
"So be it, then." Death raised the scythe he carried,   
and gestured towards the Well, which rippled now,   
where before it had been perfectly still. "Go, now.   
Sunrise, and I will see you again. Use your time   
wisely."  
  
"Oh, I intend to," Treize said, over his shoulder, as   
he waded out into the crystalline waters of the Well,   
and, with a deep breath, dove under. The waters   
closed over his head, and he drifted.  
  
* * *  
  
Treize came to, as he had been when he'd first come   
into the world, chilled to the bone and clearly   
formed only of spirit no longer. He lay upon the   
sandy beach of the lake near his family's old   
estates, which were now inhabited by Lady Une and   
Mariemaia.  
  
The summer air was warm, and quickly drew the chill   
from his body. He glanced about the area, clearly   
illuminated by moonlight, and was more than a bit   
surprised to catch sight of a robe hanging upon a low   
branch of a nearby tree. Even more surprising, he saw   
as he reached for the garment with hands that shook,   
for he was not used to having them, the robe was his-   
the stylized monogram of his initials done in silver   
thread upon the blue cloth of the left breast, over   
his heart.  
  
Treize tied the robe's sash and slowly walked up the   
gently sloping hill to the main grounds, which he was   
grateful to see were deserted. The last thing he   
wanted to do was frighten one of the estate's   
servants with the sight of their years-dead master   
living and breathing again.  
  
A cautious glance at the sky told him that he had   
plenty of time yet; the moon was not even fully   
risen. True, he had not as much time as he would have   
liked, but it would be enough; it would have to be.   
  
"Lady, I heard your call and I came," he said,   
softly. "I pray only that what I can give you is   
enough."  
  
He entered the house silently, and, intimately   
familiar as he was with every inch of this place,   
needed no light to see as he made his way towards the   
stairs to the second floor.  
  
A bemused smile crossed his face as the third step   
from the top of the staircase creaked beneath his   
bare foot. No one, not his father, not him, and,   
apparently, not Lady Une, either, had ever desired to   
repair that step, and he was just as glad of it now.   
To have such tangible evidence of his physical   
presence affecting the world again was wonderful.   
That alone was euphoric. What was to come... His   
heartbeat quickened at the very thought.  
  
On his way along the hall he paused long enough to   
look in upon his daughter, who slept soundly, her   
arms wrapped loosely around a small stuffed turtle.   
Careful not to wake her, Treize approached   
Mariemaia's bed and dropped a kiss upon her forehead.   
"I love you, my child," he whispered. "Sleep,   
Mariemaia." Treize departed her room as silently as   
he had entered it, and continued along the hall.  
  
She sat upon the bed, with her back to him, and he   
eased the door open, the motion not making a sound as   
it slid along on well-oiled hinges. His footsteps   
upon the floorboards, however, caused a soft creak,   
and he could see Lady Une's shoulders straighten, as   
if she had made a forced effort to regain her   
composure.  
  
"What is it, Mariemaia?" she asked, and her voice was   
raw, pained in a way he had not heard it for what   
seemed like years. Not since she had given the orders   
immediately following his death. Few had heard the   
anguish in her voice then, but Treize had, and he   
heard it now as well.  
  
"Lady," Treize said softly, and at the sound of his   
voice she turned- and gasped, hands flying to her   
face. "Mariemaia sleeps, as she will until morning."  
  
"What...?" Une asked quietly, clearly shocked. "I   
must be dreaming..."  
  
"No, Lady," Treize replied, reaching out to take her   
hands in both of his. "No dreams, not tonight."  
  
"But you- you're dead."  
  
"Yes," Treize said quite sadly. "I am."  
  
"I don't understand," Une told him, her fingers   
wrapping around his and holding tight, as if she   
meant to hold him to this world by that touch alone.  
  
"I am as alive as ever I was, until the sun rises."  
  
"And after?" she asked softly.  
  
He reached out a hand to caress her cheek. "With the   
sunrise, I must return to the realm where I now   
reside. I'm sorry."  
  
"No," she whispered, her arms wrapping about him and   
holding tight. "I won't have you returned to me only   
to leave again."  
  
"Dear one, I must. I only live and breathe as a   
mortal man until the dawn."  
  
Her fingers stroked the monogram over his heart,   
tracing the intertwined letters, then lay still upon   
his breast, feeling the miracle of his heartbeat   
beneath her hand. "Then I will hold you near me until   
then, and be grateful for what time we have," she   
whispered.  
  
"Une, I love you. My love for you reaches beyond   
death, and that is why I am here, why I've come."  
  
"Treize," she said, as he bent to kiss her. Gently he   
pushed her down upon the bed, the weight of his body   
atop hers holding her there. "Treize... there's so   
much I want to tell you."  
  
"You needn't, Lady," Treize said. "Let it suffice to   
say that every time you have spoken my name, I have   
heard your calls. I know that my daughter grows as   
beautiful as the woman who should have been her   
mother." He touched the first two fingers of his hand   
to her heart, and she brought them to her lips and   
kissed them.   
  
"Do you know that I-?" she began.  
  
"Love me? Yes. That much I have always known. And oh,   
Lady, how I wish that I could offer you more than   
this night."  
  
"I know you can't," she replied. "And it is enough,   
more than enough, to touch you, to be held by you who   
I never thought to see again." Her hands reached   
beneath the material of his robe to stroke his bare   
skin, and the hard muscle underneath. "Love me,   
Treize."  
  
"I intend to," he said, allowing her to cast his robe   
aside, laying bare his flesh before her. "As flesh or   
spirit, Une, I will love you always."  
  
Her hands traced their way along his bare back,   
savoring the feel of the smoothness of his skin, the   
way every inch of him seemed perfectly formed- and   
exactly as she had remembered it. However it was he   
had come to live again this night, the spirit had   
formed the body exactly as it had been, precise in   
every detail.  
  
His fingers worked slowly, gently, at the buttons of   
the thin summer gown she wore, teasing downward. He   
parted the gown and pushed it aside, where it slid   
from the edge of the bed down onto the floor.  
  
"I have always wanted this," Une said softly, with a   
little gasp as he bent his head to her breast and   
took it between his lips. Her fingers worked through   
ginger hair soft as silk as she spoke again. "I love   
you, Treize. I love you as I will never love   
another."  
  
He raised his head to look at her, sapphire eyes   
gazing into chocolate brown ones. "I would hate to   
see you live the rest of your days without anyone to   
love, my dear."  
  
She smiled, and brushed the back of her hand against   
his cheek. "I have someone," Une said softly.  
  
"I am a ghost, Lady, and but a shadow of what I once   
was."  
  
"You are real enough for me."  
  
"After tonight, I will not be able to remain. How   
could you possibly endure such a separation?" he   
asked, seeking not her rejection, as it might seem,   
but the assurance that she understood what this would   
mean.  
  
"I'll see you again," she replied. "I know it."  
  
"It will be years, decades-"  
  
"I know." She paused. "Do you- truly love me?"  
  
"With all of my heart and soul, Lady Une."  
  
"Then there is nothing else that matters, not now."  
  
They both fell silent then, each savoring the feel of   
the other's warmth upon their skin. Treize's hands   
moved across her body, sliding down one hip, and with   
gentle fingers, parted her legs and teased at the   
softness of her womanhood. That simple, slight touch   
sent shivers all through her body, and a quiet moan   
escaped her lips.  
  
"Is that the best you can do?" she asked in a light,   
teasing tone.  
  
He raised one elegant eyebrow at her. "Hardly."   
  
* * *  
  
When at last they fell into the cool sheets together,   
energies spent but both sharing in the warm feeling   
of the afterglow, Une began to weep, and Treize drew   
her up against him, holding her as if he never meant   
to let her go. "What is it, dear one?" he asked. "Did   
I hurt you?"  
  
"No," she whispered. "No more than I expected. I- I   
don't want you to go, Treize..."  
  
"Nor do I have any desire to leave your side, Une,"   
he replied, blinking back his own tears, ones of   
sadness rather than joy now. "I would stay forever if   
I could. But it is not within my power. Forgive me,   
my love..."  
  
"I do," she said, "and yet... I cannot bear the   
thought of being apart from you. Can't I...go with   
you?"  
  
Vehemently he shook his head. "Nay, beloved. You   
cannot. Your tasks in this world are not yet done.   
You must live, for yourself, for Mariemaia...and for   
our children." One hand rested upon the soft curve of   
her womb, and she drew a sharp breath.  
  
"Our...children?" Une asked softly.  
  
"Indeed." He paused, and kissed her forehead,   
overwhelmed with the need to touch her, while he was   
still able. "Know this- no matter what happens, I   
will always be with you. If you call me, I will hear   
you. Know the stars as my gaze upon you, for it   
always will be so, and that much stronger in the   
night. Know the gentle wind as my touch, and the   
scent of roses as my love for you."  
  
She rested her head against his shoulder, soft sobs   
shaking her body only slightly now. "Will you be   
waiting for me?" she asked.  
  
"At the end of you life's road, you will find me. And   
we will have eternity to make up for lost time."  
  
"I'll hold you to that promise," she said.  
  
"Good." He sighed, brushed a strand of hair back   
behind her ear. "I am so sorry I cannot give you more   
than this. You deserve far better."  
  
"No," Une replied. "You've given me more than enough.   
The gift of your love, and the knowledge that I will   
always have it. Knowing I will see you again, I can   
face anything, endure anything. Only wait for me."  
  
"I swear to you I will," he whispered, and smoothed   
back her hair. "My heart, my soul, my love. I am   
thine. Forever."  
  
"I am thine," she whispered, echoing his words. She   
brushed his lips lightly with hers, and his arms   
locked around her, holding her fast to him. "Treize,   
don't let go. Please..."  
  
"Not until I must," he said. "Not until I must, Une."  
  
For a moment she said nothing. Then: "Why did you   
never tell me, before you died...?"  
  
"I was afraid. Of your not sharing my feelings or, if   
you did, of your being hurt because of me. Of those   
who couldn't get at me, going after you instead."  
  
She propped herself up on one arm and looked at him.   
"Oh, Treize. Really. As if I couldn't take care of   
myself..."  
  
"Stubborn, foolish woman," he said quietly, dropping   
a kiss to the hollow of her throat. "Tubarov didn't   
shoot you because you got in his way, Lady. He shot   
you because somehow he knew that you meant more to me   
than life itself. Because he knew your death would   
shatter me."  
  
"Did you...weep for me?" Une asked.  
  
In answer he drew her closer, tugged the sheets up   
under her chin and encircled her in his arms. "For   
days and nights, Lady, I wept. I thought there could   
not be a tear left in all the world when I was done.   
I thought none could ever know sorrow as I knew it."  
  
"No," she said. "I know it."  
  
"Of course you do," Treize said. "Can you ever   
forgive me?"  
  
"What is there to forgive?" she asked.  
  
"Forgive me for loving you but never speaking of it.   
Forgive me for dying and leaving you alone, when you   
needed me most. And forgive me, too, for only having   
this one night to be with you, before I will leave   
you again."  
  
"Shh, Treize," she said. "Don't speak of it. Please,   
don't." She wept still, her tears falling softer now.  
  
"My Une," he whispered, and even through her tears   
she felt a thrill at being called his. "I can't bear   
to see you like this. What can I do-?" Out of the   
corner of his eye he saw the moon dip below the   
horizon, and the sky grow ever darker, as it did only   
in the moments before dawn. "No," he whispered,   
raining kisses upon her, upon lips and forehead,   
cheeks, shoulders, and, very gently, breasts.  
  
She sobbed softly into her pillow, and he brushed her   
hair to the side of her neck, kissing the nape laid   
bare. She turned her head to look up at him, her eyes   
not meeting his.  
  
"Une, look at me," he said, tipping her chin up with   
one hand. She did so, and threw herself into his   
arms, her tears falling upon his bare chest. "Shhh,   
shhh, I know, I know. But there are things you must   
know, Lady. Hear me, please."  
  
She gave a shaky nod, and he smiled. "Now, darling...   
My love is eternal. Not even Death could stop it, and   
that is a thing which I would have you remember   
always. I defied Death to come to you, because I   
needed you as you needed me."  
  
"Oh, Treize..."  
  
"Don't speak, love. I will always hear you, but you   
may only hear my voice a few moments longer." He   
paused, drew a deep breath. "You will know sorrow   
again before you know joy. You mustn't ask me how I   
know that, for there are things I cannot tell you.   
Can you bear it, Une?"  
  
"What choice have I?" she asked softly. Then: "I can.   
Somehow, I can."  
  
"The children, Une... Don't let them become bitter   
old soldiers like their father. Let them know the   
peace we fought for. And Mariemaia... You /are/ her   
mother, no matter who gave her birth. Never forget   
that."  
  
"I- I won't," she said.  
  
He kissed her once more, a searing kiss which burned   
across her lips, and though she held him tightly as   
she could, she felt his body slipping from her grasp,   
fading, becoming less and less solid.  
  
"Lady," he said, voice thick with unshed tears. "I   
love you. Only you. Remember..."  
  
"I could never forget. I love you, Treize... oh,   
Treize, no!" She reached for him even as he continued   
to fade. "Treize...I am thine."  
  
"As I am thine, Lady," he replied, as he was lifted   
from her arms and set upon the floor beside her bed.   
As he faded from view, becoming ever more transparent   
until he could not be seen at all, a single red rose   
appeared where he had once stood. "I am thine, Lady,"   
his voice echoed. And then there was nothing. 


	3. Death and Life

Title: Ghost Knight (3/?)  
Author: Anne Khushrenada  
Email: cray@syix.com  
Disclaimer: I don't *sniff* own *sniff* Gundam Wing.  
Warnings: Mild angst, maybe a bit OOC (Dorothy,   
again, and Sally)  
  
Sunlight streamed in through the window, warming the   
hardwood floor and the long-stemmed red rose beside   
the bed. Lady Une woke slowly, as if from a deep   
sleep, and brushed a curtain of hair back from her   
face. Her eyes felt sore and puffy, and with a   
surprised glance she saw that there were dried tears   
upon her pillow.  
  
"What-?" she began to ask aloud, then she caught   
sight of the rose and fell silent, remembering.   
Remembering everything, remembering Treize's words,   
and the love they had shared...  
  
"Oh, Treize," Une said softly, as she reached for the   
rose. Its petals were soft, like velvet, and she held   
it against her cheek, trying not to weep again.  
  
She gave herself a little shake and reached for her   
nightgown. It wouldn't do at all for Mariemaia or one   
of the servants to find her like this, and there was   
no earthly way she could ever hope to explain to them   
what had taken place.  
  
As she rose from the bed and dressed, her eye caught   
a spot of red standing out against the white backdrop   
of the sheets. It was dry but not yet faded the color   
of rust; it had been there several hours.  
  
Blood. Her blood.   
  
And she felt a stiffness as she moved, aches in   
places she had never felt them before. And she was   
torn between joy that she had not dreamed it, that he   
/had/ come to her, and a terrible sadness. She   
brought the rose to her lips, deciding that she would   
be grateful for the gift of his love which he had   
given her.  
  
On her way downstairs, the rose still in her hand, as   
if she could not bear to let it go, Une paused to   
check upon Mariemaia. She found the girl sitting upon   
her bed, absent-mindedly stroking her stuffed turtle.   
Une smiled as she stepped into the room.  
  
"Are you alright, darling?" Une asked, sitting down   
beside her.  
  
"Yes," said Mariemaia. "I just- I had the strangest   
dream, Mother."  
  
As always when Mariemaia addressed her so, Une was   
overwhelmed with her love for the girl. It still   
nearly brought tears to her eyes to recall the day   
when, shortly after she had decided to adopt   
Mariemaia, Treize's child had asked if she could call   
her 'Mother'.  
  
"Bad dreams, sweetling?" Une asked.  
  
Mariemaia shook her head. "No, not at all. I dreamed   
that I saw Father. He kissed me and said that he   
loved me. But it was almost too real to have been a   
dream..."  
  
Une nodded. "I know, Mariemaia."  
  
"Mother...? Father, wherever he is, he /does/ love   
me, doesn't he?"  
  
"I'm sure of it," Une said, wrapping an arm about her   
shoulders. "Come on, now. How about some breakfast?"  
  
* * *  
  
Lady Une slid her keycard into the slot beside the   
door to Preventer Headquarters, waiting while the   
glass door slid aside. She nodded to the woman   
stationed just inside, and handed over her ID.  
  
"Good morning, Lady Une," the other woman said.  
  
"Good morning. Is there anything going on that I   
should be aware of?"  
  
"If there had been, someone would have called you at   
home," the woman said. "So I would guess not. How's   
your daughter, by the way?"  
  
"Fine, thank you. I will tell her you asked."  
  
Une accepted her ID back from the young woman and   
headed for the elevators.  
  
She paused again outside her office, waving at   
Dorothy Catalonia, who held a telephone between her   
ear and shoulder, typing furiously at the laptop   
before her on the desk. "Yes, I'm certain Lady Une   
will get back to you on that... Some year," she added   
as she dropped the phone back into its cradle.  
  
"'Morning," Une said with a smile. "What now?"  
  
"Reporters. They're doing a piece on the anniversary   
of the end of the war- again."  
  
"And they'd like to speak to me," Une said.  
  
"Yes. About Mister Treize."  
  
Une shook her head. "No, I don't think so. Not this   
year, Dorothy. They're better off talking to one of   
the others- if they can find them. I understand most   
of our colleagues have a habit for vanishing into   
thin air when the newsies come sniffing about."  
  
"I can't imagine why," Dorothy said. She scowled at   
the phone as it began to ring again. "Preventer   
Water's in your office, by the way. Something about   
your annual physical?"  
  
Une allowed herself a little groan. "Oh, no. Aren't   
you going to get that?"  
  
"Yes. Hello, Preventer HQ, Lady Une's office. Hold,   
please." Dorothy raised an eyebrow at her. "Nichol   
called again."  
  
Une ignored this, turning her back on Dorothy and   
opening her office's door. "Tell those newsies-"  
  
"I know," Dorothy replied. Then, to the phone, "Sorry   
for the wait. Can I help you?"  
  
Une closed the door behind her and turned to face   
Sally Po Chang.  
  
"Sally," Une greeted the other woman as she took a   
seat upon her desk. "Much as I would /love/ to get   
the physical nonsense out of the way, I'm extremely   
busy. The World Nation Council is demanding another   
budget report, which not only has not been put   
together yet, but which I have to present them with   
in two days. I really don't have the time-"  
  
"Alright. But this is important. It really shouldn't   
wait- more than another month. And I'm only giving   
you as much time as that because I know just /how/   
busy you are."  
  
Une nodded, scanning the contents of a file folder   
she'd lifted from the top of the stack upon her desk.   
It was clear to Sally that Une wasn't really   
listening to her any longer, and the strange smile   
crossing the other woman's face was more than a bit   
disturbing.  
  
Sally left Lady Une's office, but paused in the   
antechamber for a word with Dorothy. The younger   
woman looked up and nodded at Sally, then continued   
her typing for a moment, until she reached a stopping   
place.  
  
"Lady Une," Sally began, not really sure what to say.  
  
Dorothy nodded. "Something's going on with her, but I   
couldn't tell you what it is. Does she seem- oddly   
cheerful, to you?"  
  
"Yes," Sally replied. "I can't imagine why,   
especially with the anniversary of Treize's death   
coming up in a couple months."  
  
"Maybe you should keep an eye on Wufei," Dorothy   
suggested with a shrug. "Maybe she's-"  
  
But Sally shook her head. "Somehow I just don't think   
that's it. He /offered/ to let her kill him once,   
remember? If she'd wanted to take revenge, she could   
have done it then. But she didn't."  
  
Dorothy nodded slowly. "True. I just can't figure   
what it could be, though, and there's not really   
anyone who she talks to anymore. Is there?"  
  
"Maybe," said Sally, as she drifted off, her   
expression thoughtful. "Remind her about that   
physical next month, okay? I mean it."  
  
* * *  
  
Une unsealed her Preventers jacket and reached for a   
cigarette as she strode along the path towards the   
grave. She lit the cigarette with a sigh, and placed   
a hand on the marker upon which was carved his name,   
and the words 'For now we see through a glass,   
darkly, but then face to face'. His few living   
relations had chosen the quote, and she had always   
loathed it, but perhaps it fit better than she knew.  
  
"Maybe it is apt," Une said softly, and took a slow   
drag on the cigarette. "Maybe." A tear made its way   
down her cheek, but she hardly noticed. She dropped   
to her knees and rested her head against the cool   
stone. "Oh, love. How can you be so alive one moment,   
and so very...not, the next? I miss you, Treize."  
  
Une sat there in silence a moment, gazing at the   
headstone over the glowing ember of her cig.  
  
"Hey. Lady. You alright?" called a voice, and Une   
turned to regard an old man with thinning hair and   
spectacles, wearing overalls.   
  
"Yes," Une replied. Then: "No."  
  
"You can't smoke that here-" She looked up at him   
then, her eyes meeting his, and the old man seemed to   
shake his head. "Forget it." He nodded respectfully   
to Treize's gravestone. "Friend of yours?"  
  
"My lover," Une said, the first time she'd spoken the   
words, and she gave them forth without thought, with   
no caution or same. He had asked, and it was the   
truth. That was all.  
  
"I'm sorry. AC 195, it says... been a few years."  
  
"Not enough of them," Une said. She sighed. "I should   
be going."  
  
"Don't let me scare you off, miss," the old man said,   
reaching out to touch her shoulder. "You stay as long   
as you need to."  
  
* * *  
  
The Place Between Worlds  
  
"Ghost Knight, it is time."  
  
He looked up at the voice of Death, and nodded. He   
dared one glance back at the Well of Souls, but Death   
gripped his arm with ice-cold fingers and drew him   
away from the Well, towards what was the River of   
Forgetfulness.  
  
"Farewell, Ghost Knight," Death said, his voice not   
quite menacing, but close.  
  
His head held high, Treize refused to acknowledge the   
other's threatening undertones. Absent-mindedly he   
ran a hand through his hair as he stepped towards the   
River. He did not speak, having said all he had   
needed to already.  
  
The water was cold, like ice, and it gripped him in   
its current, tugging him downward. As the river   
carried him along, he felt parts of himself being   
left in its wake, memory, sense and touch... a name.   
His name? Who was he? All he could recall was that   
Death had called him Ghost Knight, and then, after a   
time, not even that.  
  
Memories replayed as they faded- memories of a   
childhood, of school years and later ones, memories   
of the organization known as OZ, of fighting with   
Lady Une at his side, of mobile suit battles and   
Gundam pilots...  
  
Of holding that same Lady in his arms, finally free   
at last to proclaim his love for her...  
  
"No!" he cried out, and held fast to those memories,   
searing that woman's image into his mind so that he   
would not forget it, ever. And he found himself   
struggling against the current- or perhaps the   
current struggled against him, he didn't know. But   
the passage was no longer smooth.  
  
He struck something sharp then, a rock amidst the   
River turning the water to rapids, a rock with a   
sharp jagged edge, and, though he was dead, he bled.   
Another rock followed, and another after that, until   
at last he found himself spilled out upon the   
opposite shore. Not where he had been, but not where   
he had expected to find himself, either.  
  
When his feet touched land, memory returned. And   
Treize Khushrenada smiled. For the River of   
Forgetfulness /would not take him,/ and that meant   
that it was not yet done.  
  
"How much longer," seethed Death, "must I endure your   
company? This is /my/ world, and I would inhabit it   
alone."  
  
"And gladly would I leave you to it," Treize replied.   
"But it seems the River doesn't want me yet."  
  
"You- you-" Death sputtered, seeming at a loss for   
words.  
  
"I defied you once for her, and I would do it again,   
once, a dozen, a hundred times. I said I would die   
again before I forget her, and did you think I did   
not mean it?"  
  
"I thought," said Death, "that you would forget that   
oath along with the rest of it. Such is usually the   
case."  
  
"But clearly, not always."  
  
"I have made you flesh again once; I cannot do so a   
second time. That is not within my power. What can   
you possibly do, unable to affect the physical   
world?"  
  
"Have we not discovered," Treize countered, "that so   
many of your precious rules fail to apply to me?"  
  
"That is so, Ghost Knight," Death replied. "But none   
may defy me forever. In the end I will prove the   
stronger."  
  
"I don't intend to fight you," Treize replied, "only   
to do what it seems I must."  
  
And before he had thought twice, Treize felt himself   
fading from the Place Between Worlds, crossing space   
and time... to appear, no more solid than the winds,   
at his own grave site. He strolled towards it,   
ghostly footsteps not disturbing so much as one   
fallen leaf or blade of grass.  
  
Treize sighed tragically as he bent to read the   
inscription upon his headstone. "What pretentious   
nonsense," he said. "Well. I'm not about to look at   
/that/ for the rest of eternity."  
  
And, as he had done before, he thought himself   
someplace else, and, sooner than the thought was   
finished, found himself there.  
  
* * *  
  
One month later  
  
"Alright," said Sally Po Chang as she withdrew the   
needle from Lady Une's arm, replacing it with a   
sterile cotton ball and a piece of medical tape,   
folding Une's arm up so that pressure was put upon   
the small wound. "That's the last of it. I just need   
to run these tests, and once everything comes back   
clear, you can return to work."  
  
"I don't suppose," said Une, "that you could just   
call me with the results?"  
  
"Nope. Regs specifically state you have to wait here   
until you're cleared for duty."  
  
"Are you willing to tell the Council members that the   
reason I was unable to return their calls is that you   
held me hostage in the medical wing?"  
  
"Very funny," Sally replied. "Think of it as a break.   
I'll be back in a few minutes."  
  
Sally departed the exam room, carrying the vials of   
blood she had drawn from Lady Une. She calibrated the   
scanner for the first test, and tapped her foot as   
she waited for the results.  
  
"Well, that's good to see," she murmured, scribbling   
into Lady Une's chart. "Not that I thought she was   
taking drugs- Although I'm sad to say she's taken up   
smoking..." Still working on her chart notes, she fed   
the next file into the scanner and set it for the   
next test. That, too, was clear, as was the one after   
that, but something came up in the last test, an   
anomaly the scanner had noted.  
  
Sally looked up at the machine's insistent beeping,   
annoyed- and gasped. "What?"  
  
Nearly dropping the chart in her haste to return to   
Lady Une, Sally dashed back down the hall, and tugged   
open the exam room door. "Lady Une- come with me."  
  
"What is it?" Une asked her friend. "Is something   
wrong?"  
  
"Oh, no," Sally replied. "Not at all. In fact...   
Well, here. See for yourself."   
  
Sally tapped the scanner's readout, and Lady Une's   
gasp echoed her own. "That- that's not possible," she   
said softly, although she clearly recalled the   
previous month's visitation. It /was,/ in fact, quite   
possible. Uncanny, perhaps, but possible.  
  
"I thought so too," Sally replied, "so I ran a   
diagnostic on the scanner, and when that turned up   
clean, ran the test again. There's no mistake. You're   
pregnant, my friend." 


	4. Friends of Old

Title: Ghost Knight 4/?  
Author: Anne Khushrenada  
Disclaimers: Standard. I don't own GW, yadayadayada.  
Warnings: The usual round of OOCs.  
  
Milliardo Peacecraft looked up from his computer at   
the sound of the office door creaking open, and   
sighed when he saw there was no one there. "Damned   
draft," he muttered.  
  
/No, I don't think so./  
  
Slowly a ghostly apparition faded into view, and,   
with a great deal of effort, heaved the door closed   
once again. "Gods, you're dense, old friend," said   
the unmistakable specter of Treize Khushrenada, clad   
in the familiar blue and white OZ uniform.  
  
Milliardo sighed. "Haunting me now, Treize?"  
  
"As if I had nothing better to do. No, old friend, I   
need a favor, and you are the only one who might be   
capable of taking care of it for me."  
  
"Name it," Milliardo said. Since his friend's death,   
he had thought that if anything of Treize survived   
that experience, if the spirit did indeed go on to   
another realm, that Treize would never have forgiven   
him for his words and actions during the final days   
of the war. But Treize's manner was as it would have   
been years ago, when they had worked so well   
together, when they had been as close as ever they'd   
been in their youth.  
  
"I went to see Lady Une the other night," Treize   
said. "Actually, it may have been quite a while ago;   
I don't seem to be able to keep track of time   
anymore."  
  
"She's been acting a bit- strange -for the past   
month."  
  
"Has it been that long?" Treize asked himself. "In   
any case, I... Well. There's no delicate way to   
phrase what I am about to say. So I will ask you   
this. If you were me, if you had died, and your   
Lucrezia never knew so much as the fact you loved   
her, what would you do?"  
  
"Anything I could," Milliardo said. "And whatever it   
would take, to see her, to show her..." He raised his   
eyebrows then, an unspoken question, and Treize   
laughed.  
  
"You know, at my heart I have always been something   
of a romantic."  
  
"I know," Milliardo said, dryly. "So...."  
  
"I- Gods, old friend, must I spell it out for you?"  
  
"But, you- You're dead, Treize."  
  
The specter sighed. "Yes. I know that. A month ago, I   
wasn't- quite. And I suspect my lady- with the help   
of Doctor Sally Po, of course -has just discovered   
the, ah, result of that interlude."  
  
"Sally Po Chang," Milliardo corrected reflexively.  
  
"If any woman alive could tolerate that boy, it   
/would/ have been Sally," Treize replied. "But at any   
rate, Death seems to be of the belief that he can   
take one of my children from this world, in exchange   
for making me human again for that one night. I will   
do what I can to protect them, however-"  
  
Milliardo nodded. "Lucrezia and I are already God-  
parents to Mariemaia, you know."  
  
"Yes, and you spoil her horribly."  
  
"Someone's got to do it," Milliardo countered with a   
smile. "Rest easy, my friend. Anything in my power   
that I can do for your children... Hell, you don't   
even need to ask. I owe you too much."  
  
Treize nodded slowly. "Milliardo, words cannot   
express my gratitude."  
  
* * *  
  
Lady Une returned to her office with trembling steps,   
her knees shaking so hard that they barely held her   
up. She did not respond to Dorothy's nod of greeting   
as she passed the younger woman, but continued to the   
inner office door and pulled it closed behind her.  
  
She leaned up against the door, her whole body   
shaking now. /Get ahold of yourself,/ she thought   
sharply. /You're going to have to figure out how to   
deal with this, and soon./  
  
A flash of red caught her eye, and she spun towards   
the desk, breath catching in her throat.  
  
Roses. A vase full of them, long-stemmed and red. Une   
took a step towards the desk, and then another.   
"What-?" she began, but never finished.  
  
Dorothy stepped into the office. "Oh. Those. I'm   
sorry, Lady Une..."  
  
"Who brought them?" Une asked.  
  
"Nichol. He wanted to see you, but you weren't in-"  
  
Dorothy cut herself off as Une lifted the vase from   
her desk and pressed it into the other woman's hands.   
"Keep them. Get rid of them, whatever. I don't care.   
But get them out of my sight."  
  
"Lady, I... Alright. I'll take care of them." With   
that, Dorothy quickly departed the office, vase in   
hand.  
  
/Lovely,/ Une thought as she dropped into her chair.   
/She's going to think I've lost my mind. Oh, Dorothy,   
if only you knew. If only you knew./  
  
She gazed at her reflection in the office's window   
glass. She hardly looked pregnant, but Sally had said   
it wouldn't be long now before she did start to show.   
The unspoken thought along with that statement had   
been that there was still time to abort the   
pregnancy, that no one need ever know...  
  
Une buried her head in her hands. She had never felt   
more lost, more alone. But she knew the one thing she   
could /not/ do was forsake this child. /Her/ child,   
and, perhaps more importantly, Treize's child. And   
yet, she did not know how she would ever manage   
alone, without Treize.  
  
/I need a cigarette,/ she thought. Then, with a laugh   
bordering on the hysterical: /But I can't have one./  
  
The door eased open again, and, furious, Une searched   
her desk for something to throw. "Doesn't /anyone/   
ever knock-?"  
  
Milliardo Peacecraft, ignoring this, closed the door   
behind him and strode towards her across the carpet.   
"Dorothy called me," he said. "She told me   
something's wrong."  
  
"Oh, Milliardo," Une said quietly. "Everything's   
wrong."  
  
"I also heard," Milliardo said, "about Nichol and the   
roses. I don't know what in the world he's thinking.   
He means well, but- They upset you, didn't they? The   
roses?"  
  
"Yes," she said. "The roses, and... other things,   
too. If only you knew, Milliardo."  
  
Milliardo smiled. "Try me."  
  
And, hesitantly, because he had been Treize's best   
friend, and because of what they'd shared on the eve   
of Treize's death, she did tell him. Not everything,   
but enough. She told him of Treize's nocturnal visit,   
and of Sally's revelation that she was now pregnant.  
  
"You think me mad, don't you?" Une asked.   
  
"No," Milliardo said, moving quickly around the desk,   
hugging her close. "No, Lady, I don't think you mad."  
  
"Why?" she asked. Une drew a deep breath. "You saw   
him."  
  
"Yes." Milliardo brushed a strand of hair back from   
his face. "Don't ask me to explain it, Lady Une,   
because I cannot. But I know what I saw, and felt."  
  
"I, too," Une said. "How am I ever going to explain   
this?"  
  
"I wish I knew."  
  
* * *  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Well, what?" Milliardo looked at Sally, more than a   
little irritated. He did not want to be having this   
conversation, but she had insisted, and Sally could   
be quite forceful when she wanted to be. It was   
probably, he thought, how she'd managed to survive   
these years of marriage to Wufei.  
  
"Did she say anything to you?"  
  
"She did, but I cannot betray her confidences,"   
Milliardo replied.  
  
"Milliardo!" Sally protested.  
  
But he shook his head. "Sally, listen to me, please.   
She was my best friend's girl. He's dead, and she's   
/still/ my best friend's girl. Not to mention my   
girl's best friend, after you. If you want the truth,   
you go and get it from her, yourself. I told Lucrezia   
the same, by the way."  
  
"I'm sure that went over well," Sally replied.  
  
"Oh, it did."  
  
"Milliardo- I'm not doing this to be nosy, you know.   
She's hurting, and we want to help her."  
  
"We all do," Milliardo replied. He seemed to be   
looking then, not at Sally, but at something over her   
shoulder and off into the distance. "Excuse me..."  
  
* * *  
  
Treize looked over Milliardo's shoulder as the latter   
dug through old books and papers, muttering under his   
breath. It was all he could do not to scream. Unable   
to affect the physical world himself, and unable to   
inform his old friend that he was looking in entirely   
the wrong places, was incredibly frustrating.  
  
At last Milliardo came upon the keys to the desk, and   
began sifting through its contents. Treize breathed a   
sigh of relief. He would find it now, he'd have to.  
  
"Ah-hah," Milliardo said triumphantly. He scanned the   
document he had found. "Is this for real, old friend?  
  
/Of course it is, you fool,/ Treize thought sharply.  
  
Milliardo looked up as if he'd heard something.   
"What?"  
  
Treize settled his spiritual form into a chair, and   
sighed. Physically manifesting himself was beginning   
to take its toll upon his energy reserves, but   
sometimes there was no way around it.   
  
/Hearing things, old boy?/ he asked silently, for   
speaking mentally took far less strength than doing   
so aloud.  
  
"Treize," Milliardo said. "I seem to have found what   
I'm looking for, thanks to you." He glanced again at   
the document in his hands. "You really did plan   
ahead, didn't you?"  
  
/Actually, that nonsense was Father's idea. The   
letter to Lady Une- which you'll find in that   
document box there -was mine. You /will/ see that she   
gets it, won't you?/  
  
"Of course," Milliardo replied. "And I must admit, it   
does beat telling ghost stories to everyone. Not that   
they would have believed those, of course..."  
  
Treize nodded, and then his ghostly eyes narrowed.   
/Damned fool,/ he muttered to himself. /Excuse me,   
old friend, but I have someone I need to haunt for a   
bit./  
  
Milliardo laughed. "Let me guess. Nichol?"  
  
Treize shook his head. /There are those, apparently,   
who never learn./  
  
"Maybe," said Milliardo. "But even /I/ know better   
than to send red roses to /your/ girl."  
  
Treize smiled, and raised a hand in parting gesture.   
/Farewell, old friend. Till we meet again. And give   
her that letter!/ The specter's voice echoed as he   
faded away.  
  
Milliardo stared after him a moment, then shook his   
head. /Even dead, old friend, you still manage to   
make me question my sanity. Often./ He gathered up   
the document he'd found, and the letter to Lady Une,   
and locked up the desk before exiting the room.  
  
A small red-haired sentry stood just outside the   
door, her arms crossed. She raised an eyebrow at him,   
then smiled. "Uncle Milliardo," she said. "I'd   
wondered who was here."  
  
"Just me, Mariemaia. I'm sorry I startled you. I was   
looking for something among your father's things."  
  
"Did you find it?" the girl asked.  
  
"Yes, I think I did."  
  
* * *  
  
Lady Une stood before the gravesite, and sighed. "I   
promised myself I wasn't going to come here anymore,"   
she said softly aloud. "It didn't seem as if reliving   
the past that way was doing me any good. But you've   
changed everything, Treize, again, and now I hardly   
know what to do." She sighed. "But in any case, I'm   
sure you'll be glad to know that I've given up   
smoking. Sally didn't even have to force the issue,   
and I don't miss it- much."  
  
The sound of footsteps caused her to turn, and she   
breathed a little sigh of relief when she saw that it   
was only Milliardo. She really wasn't in the mood to   
be interrupted now by anyone else.  
  
"I have something for you," Milliardo said, as he   
produced a pair of documents.  
  
Une shot him a questioning look as she accepted the   
documents from him, but he only motioned for her to   
read them. She did so, beginning with that which was   
topmost.  
  
It appeared to be a letter from Lucian Khushrenada,   
Treize's father, to his son, and she scanned it with   
no small amount of trepidation, feeling as if she had   
intruded in a place where she did not belong. But as   
she read the letter she began to feel less intrusive,   
deciding that she would have liked Treize's father a   
great deal. The elder Duke Khushrenada seemed to   
possess a great depth of humor, but she could tell by   
the way he chastised his son for having gone against   
his wishes, that he had been as much a warrior as his   
son, and also as dangerous.  
  
The letter read in part:  
  
"I still fail to see why you oppose the match with   
Barton's daughter so vehemently. She's a lovely girl,   
quite intelligent and charming, and she's certainly   
pretty enough for you, Treize. What possible   
objection could you have to this?" In the margin,   
Treize had scrawled, "I don't love her, Father. What   
more reason need I give?"  
  
"In any case, your grandfather and I, having decided   
that marrying her is in your best interests, have   
gone ahead and given her access to the Bank. I am   
given to understand she has already conceived a   
child, a girl if the doctors are correct. For her   
sake, can't you..." Here Treize had written,   
"Scheming old bastard... And no, I can't."  
  
"What?" Une asked Milliardo. "What's he talking   
about?"  
  
"Keep reading," said Milliardo. "You'll see."  
  
The rest of the letter from Treize's father proved   
mostly irrelevant, but the second document, which was   
a letter addressed to /her/, seemed to have quite a   
bit to say. Une drew a deep breath before she began   
to read it.  
  
"My dearest Lady,  
  
It may be that you are reading this because things   
have not ended as I would have wished them. Life is   
ever complicated, and war is more so, I think.  
  
It may be that you have never realized, have never   
known, how very much you mean to me, Lady. If that is   
the case, let me state it plainly, so that there can   
be no mistake. I love you. I have loved you for   
years..."  
  
Une looked up from the letter, to find Milliardo's   
ice-blue gaze upon her. She gestured to the letter,   
her tone almost accusing. "Did you read any of this?"  
  
He shook his head. "No, Lady, I didn't. I saw the   
envelope had your name on it, and I brought it to   
you. I wouldn't have-"  
  
She nodded. "Good."  
  
Her breath catching in her throat, she found she was   
forced to skip several long sections. She was simply   
unprepared to deal with the overwhelming emotion that   
swept over her. "Treize," she whispered, heedless of   
the fact that Milliardo was still there, watching   
her.  
  
"...Perhaps it is only my arrogance which assumes   
that you will have any desire to know this, Lady,   
but... By now you will know of my daughter,   
Mariemaia, and of the way in which she was brought   
into the world. And so if you will allow me this   
small bit of ego, dear one..."  
  
Before she was able to go on in her reading, a quick   
gust of air swept the letter from her hands and   
carried it off. Uselessly, Une reached out her hands   
as if to snatch it back, but the wind danced it out   
of her reach, and she sighed. Hands on her hips, she   
gave the wind a reproachful look, and Milliardo had   
to try very hard not to laugh.  
  
"Do you find this amusing?" Une asked softly.   
  
"I..." Milliardo shook his head. "You saw what he was   
getting at, though, with the letter from his father.   
/That/ one I've seen."  
  
Une nodded. "Yes, I think so, but..."  
  
"It's something the old Romafeller families did.   
There was a great fear when the Alliance first began   
using mobile suits for combat that some of the energy   
forms used to power them would render both male and   
female pilots unable to have children."  
  
"How that must have terrified them," Une said. "The   
thought that their names would not carry on..."  
  
"Exactly," said Milliardo. "Which is why they set up   
the genetic bank. Any member of the families over   
eighteen, or younger if they began piloting sooner   
than that, was required to make at least one   
deposit."  
  
"And the Khushrenadas-"  
  
"Were traditionalists. Treize thought it ridiculous,   
but his father was absolutely insistent."  
  
"I see," said Lady Une. "Thank you, Milliardo."  
  
"Don't thank /me./ Thank Lucian Khushrenada."  
  
* * *  
  
Mariemaia stepped into the library only recently   
vacated by Milliardo Peacecraft. "Father?" she asked.   
But it was clear to her that if her father's spirit   
had been there, it was gone now. But spread out on   
the desk was the clear trail of Milliardo's research,   
including letters from her grandfather Khushrenada to   
her father, referencing the Barton family and some   
sort of genetic bank...  
  
"It figures," said Mariemaia as she dropped into her   
father's old desk chair. She picked up another letter   
and read it slowly. "How stubborn Grandfather Lucian   
was."  
  
Beneath that letter was another, dated far more   
recently and addressed to her mother. The return   
address indicated it was from a woman named Linnea   
Khushrenada. Curious, Mariemaia opened the envelope   
and withdrew the single sheet of paper it contained.  
  
"Dear Lady Une," she read aloud. "I am writing to you   
on behalf of my family. We are cousins to Treize   
Khushrenada, whom I was very close to, and we are   
given to understand that you have his daughter, one   
Mariemaya Barton, in your custody. I dare say, Lady,   
that the girl knows me far better than she does   
you..."  
  
Mariemaia made a face at the letter. "Cousin Linnea   
knows us so well she couldn't even get my name   
right," she scoffed at the monogrammed, scented   
stationary.   
  
There was a second letter from Linnea, this one a bit   
thicker, and Mariemaia examined this warily,   
uncertain what she would find but knowing that she   
would not like it much.  
  
"Lady Une, I must insist that the child be given into   
my care /immediately./ You know as well as I do that   
this was her father's wish..."  
  
Furious, Mariemaia crumpled the paper and tossed it   
off to the side of the desk. "How dare she, Father?"   
the girl asked aloud. "And if she's such a close   
relation, how come I've never even heard of her   
before?"  
  
* * *  
  
Treize found himself returning to the cemetery,   
although he did not much care for the atmosphere   
there. It served to remind him a little too much that   
he was not quite alive anymore.  
  
With a sigh he began to search for the letter which   
the wind had torn from Lady Une's hands.  
  
/And how fortunate that was,/ he thought with a   
silent laugh. /Truly. Ah- there it is./ What remained   
of the letter was scattered amongst a line of thorn   
bushes, shredded so that whatever words it might have   
once contained were now worse than illegible. Treize   
nodded to himself. /Good enough./  
  
He had realized, while watching Lady Une and   
Milliardo, that things had changed far too much for   
half the letter's contents to be even slightly   
relevant, and that Une's reading them would serve no   
purpose but to upset her. At one point in that   
missive, he'd spoken of asking her to marry him.   
Certainly she had suffered enough, without /that./   
And his primary concern, of course, was her well-  
being, and that of the children.  
  
Not that, Treize thought with another sigh, there was   
much he was truly capable of doing to protect them.   
Not from forces supernatural, and there was even   
/less/ he was able to do to keep them safe from the   
living dangers that existed for them.  
  
/Leave them be, Linnea,/ he thought. /Leave Mariemaia   
be, and the unborn two, as well. Because I swear to   
you, /cousin/, if you do not.../  
  
* * *  
  
Three months later  
October AC 199  
  
Lucrezia Noin caught the office door for Lady Une and   
held it open, and Une, now three, almost four, months   
pregnant, smiled.  
  
"Thank you," she said, stepping into her office and   
dropping her bag with a sigh upon the desktop. "Gods.   
Walking that gauntlet of reporters always seems to   
exhaust me, these days."  
  
"I can't imagine why," Noin said. "Nosy fools. As if   
it's any of their business how or why you became   
pregnant. You'd think, from the way they act, that   
none of the rest of us are, how was it Wufei put it?"  
  
"Reproducing," Une replied with a laugh. "Of course,   
/you're/ not showing yet. Although Sally is..."  
  
"Do you suppose the difference is that Sally and I   
are married? And you're-?"  
  
"Not?" Une asked. "Maybe. But almost anything they   
say or do beats that horrid rumor the tabloids   
started, that I was, I believe their phrasing was,   
'having the love-child of Preventer Nichol.'"  
  
Noin laughed. "You really need to do something about   
him, my friend."  
  
"What would you suggest?" Une asked. "His latest   
strategy seems to be that my children are going to   
need a father. With, of course, the implication that   
he's more than willing to take the job." She shook   
her head. "I don't have time for this nonsense, Noin.   
I've got the annual Council budget meeting in less   
than three months, and Sally's already threatening to   
order me to bed until the twins are born."  
  
"Everything alright?" Noin asked with concern. Unlike   
most who knew of Lady Une's pregnancy, Noin knew just   
how irreplaceable the twins truly were, and how   
deeply it would shatter her old friend to loose even   
one of them.  
  
"Fine," Une said. "But Sally is of the belief I work   
too hard, and that it isn't good for the three of   
us." She laughed. "Not that, you'll notice, /her/   
pregnancy is slowing her down one bit."  
  
"Point," said Noin. "But still, if Sally thinks you   
should be careful..."  
  
"I'm as careful as I can be without hiding in my room   
for another five months, Noin."  
  
Noin nodded, not quite accepting this, but knowing   
far better than to argue with her friend about it.   
Instead she decided to change the subject. "How's   
Mariemaia doing with all this?"  
  
"Mariemaia's fine," Une replied. "She's actually   
attending a function with her school today, believe   
it or not. They're going to observe the council   
meeting."  
  
"Are you as jealous as I am, Lady?" Noin asked.  
  
"Be kind," Une replied with a smile. "No, I really   
think her biggest problem these days is those   
wretched relations of her father, who are probably   
going to sue me for custody of her any day now."  
  
Noin shook her head. "They don't really care about   
her, do they?"  
  
"Treize didn't seem to think they cared about   
/anyone/ but themselves, and I've seen no reason to   
doubt that." Une sighed. "That's leaving entirely   
aside what they've said to me about the twins, of   
course."  
  
"Of course," said Noin.  
  
The intercom upon the desk beeped, and Dorothy's   
voice came through. "Lady Une? Preventer Chang to see   
you."  
  
"Send her in," Une said, rolling her eyes. "And so it   
begins again..."  
  
"Actually, it's Wufei. He says there's some kind of   
trouble downtown..."  
  
"The council," Une breathed. /Mariemaia!/ "Send him   
in, and page Milliardo and Sally, please. Right now."  
  
Une reached into her desk and withdrew her pistol.   
Noin sighed and shook her head. "Lady Une, you can't   
seriously-"  
  
"Don't," Une cut her off, holding her voice steady by   
sheer act of will alone. /Oh, Treize... not   
Mariemaia, please... oh, God, no./  
  
Wufei Chang entered the office and closed the door   
behind him. "We just got a call informing us that   
someone decided to bomb the council chamber while a   
group of school kids were visiting it." He shook his   
head. "There's no honor in that."  
  
"No kidding," said Noin. Then, "Mariemaia was one of   
those school kids."  
  
"We'll find her, Lady, I promise you," Wufei said,   
just as Sally and Milliardo entered the office at a   
run.  
  
"Yes," Une said as she stood, holstering the pistol.   
"/We/ will."  
  
And she strode from the office, calling out orders,   
before any of them could voice a word of protest. As   
one they looked to each other, then hurried after   
her. They listened along with the rest of the   
assembled Preventers as Une addressed them quickly,   
laid out the situation for them, and briefed them on   
the plan she and the others had come up with on the   
elevator ride down from her office.  
  
"Alright, everyone," Une concluded. "Let's go!"  
  
As Milliardo helped her down from the chair upon   
which she'd stood, he said very quietly, "You're not   
going anywhere, Lady."  
  
"The hell I'm not. That's my daughter out there,   
Preventer Wind, and I will /not/ just sit here and   
wait. I'm pregnant, not useless."  
  
"Alright," said Milliardo. "Fine. You go with us, but   
you don't go in."  
  
"I see. I'll simply wait around the corner and   
address the press?"  
  
"Yes, exactly."  
  
"I don't think so."  
  
Une flagged down one of the Preventers rushing   
towards the exits. It was, she saw with a sinking   
feeling, Nichol, the last person on Earth she had any   
desire to speak to. But also, the only one who   
wouldn't dare to question a word she said, no matter   
what it was, and she lacked the time to be picky.   
Nichol would have to do.  
  
"You," she said as if she hadn't recognized him at   
all, "have the Epyon prepped before you join the   
others."  
  
"Yes, ma'am!"  
  
Milliardo threw up his hands in disgust. /Treize,   
you've got yourself one very stubborn Lady. Now stop   
her before she gets herself killed!/ "Epyon?" he   
asked aloud in shock. "I can say from firsthand   
experience that the Zero system is the last thing you   
want to be playing around with, Lady."  
  
"I'm not playing," she said, her voice very cold. And   
before he could reply she spun on her heel and raced   
for the hanger.  
  
Milliardo turned his wrath upon Nichol, who'd simply   
/stood there/, not saying a word. "Don't do it," he   
told the ex-OZ officer. "I'm dead serious, Nichol.   
Don't."  
  
"She gave me an order-" Nichol began.  
  
"Look," Milliardo snapped. "You're always professing   
your undying love for her, right? Well, let me ask   
you this. Do you want /her/ dead? /Don't/ do it."  
  
* * *  
  
"Howard!"  
  
Howard looked up at the sound of Lady Une's shout,   
and sighed as he watched the pregnant head of the   
Preventers race towards him. "Hey there, slow down,   
Lady. What's up?"  
  
"I need you to prep the Epyon for me, Howard. I don't   
need you to think about it, or discuss it with me, I   
just need you to do it. Right now."  
  
Howard sighed. The Epyon, which they'd rebuilt to   
specs after the Eve Wars, had been stripped of its   
Zero system and repainted in blue on white, colors   
reminiscent of the Tallgeese II, but it was still a   
very dangerous Gundam, and, skilled pilot though she   
was, Howard didn't think Lady Une had any business   
using it in her condition. Not that, of course, it   
would do any good to argue with her on the subject-   
one look at her face told him that.  
  
"What's going on?" he asked as he got to work.  
  
"There was an explosion- a bomb, we think -at the   
council meeting. Mariemaia's class was there. I've   
/got/ to go, Howard, even if there isn't a damned   
thing I can do."  
  
"Alright," said Howard. "But at least let me help you   
up there."  
  
"Thank you," she said, accepting the arm he offered   
her.  
  
Une slipped into the cockpit and buckled herself in.   
The straps were a little tight, but she decided they   
would have to do. This wasn't her first time piloting   
the refit Epyon, and she quickly scanned the displays   
and readouts before her. "Okay, Howard. Looks good."  
  
"Be careful," Howard said.  
  
"Count on it."  
  
Une tapped the Gundam's vidcom with the fingers of   
one hand as she piloted the suit out of the hanger.   
Though the Preventer teams carried only   
communicators, her vidcom would connect her with them   
by audio.  
  
"Preventers, this is Epyon. Wind, Fire, do you copy?"  
  
Noin's sigh came through loud and clear. "We hear   
you, boss. You're crazy, by the way."  
  
"Thank you, Preventer Fire. Situation."  
  
"Not good, ma'am. The recon team says the council   
chamber is mostly gone, and the survivors we've found   
are very badly hurt. We need more medics. A lot of   
them."  
  
"You'll get them," Une promised. "Is there anything   
else you can tell me?"  
  
"Yeah," said Milliardo dryly. "You might suggest to   
the Council at the next budget meeting that we could   
/really/ use a bomb squad."  
  
"Funny."  
  
Une dialed up her office on the vidcom, and spoke   
quickly to Dorothy. In a few short sentences she   
outlined what she needed where, and Dorothy got to   
work.  
  
Before she cut the connection with Dorothy, Une heard   
her assistant end her orders with the words, "And   
somebody find Trowa Barton. Maybe he can talk our   
fearless leader out of her Gundam."  
  
"I don't think so, Dorothy," Une said, before she did   
sever the connection.  
  
The area around the council building resembled   
nothing so much as it did a war zone, Une saw with a   
shudder. The carnage became clearer and clearer as   
she approached in Epyon, and she kept her hands near   
the weapons controls, though she hoped she wouldn't   
have to use them.  
  
Though Howard had removed the Zero system, something   
of the self-awareness of Epyon had remained. Many of   
the techs had wanted to scrap it for that very   
reason, but Une wouldn't hear of it. Not when she had   
already proven she could handle the Gundam, even with   
its unique and dangerous attributes.  
  
Still, piloting it was no picnic, least of all now,   
and she slammed a fist onto one of the armrests in   
frustration. "Come on," she coaxed the Gundam.   
"Treize designed you, and /I/ rebuilt you. If anyone   
can pilot you..."  
  
One of the twins kicked just then, and she gasped.   
"Treize, what the hell am I doing? The others were   
right. Oh, I can't, I can't..."  
  
For just the briefest moment, she thought she felt   
his hands warm upon her shoulders. His voice was   
everywhere and nowhere. /Shh, Lady. It's alright. You   
tried, and I have to applaud your efforts./  
  
"T-Treize?"  
  
/Now set this thing down before you get hurt./  
  
"Mariemaia?" she asked, settling Epyon back on solid   
ground with a small sigh of relief.  
  
/She wasn't too badly hurt. She should be alright./  
  
* * *  
  
"She's crazy," Trowa Barton said as the refurbished   
Epyon landed in the street alongside a line of   
emergency vehicles.  
  
"Gutsy," Duo Maxwell said. "But stupid. God, she   
looks like hell."  
  
Together Duo and Trowa raced for Epyon, scrambling up   
the Gundam's exterior to look in on Lady Une.  
  
She laughed softly at the sight of their worried   
expressions. "I wish you'd all stop this. I'm   
/fine./"  
  
"If you say so," said Duo. "Listen, it's pretty bad   
in there. Probably not something you should see."  
  
Une's eyes narrowed. "There's quite a bit I've seen   
already in my time."  
  
"Duo, why don't you go find the other Preventers and   
see if you can't get a status report out of them?"   
Trowa suggested.  
  
Duo nodded. "Will do. I think I'll go help the   
investigators after that. We certainly blew enough   
stuff up in our time to know a thing or two about   
explosives."  
  
Une smiled at that, waving aside Trowa's offer of   
assistance, and using Epyon's automatic hoist cable   
to lower herself to the tarmac.  
  
"Alright," she said to Trowa. "Newsies here yet?"  
  
"Yep," Trowa replied. "Nichol's keeping them busy   
with about ten different versions of the same basic   
doubletalk. I didn't know anyone could extend 'No   
comment' or 'We have no new information' to such   
length."  
  
"I'm just glad to see he's proven good for something.   
You didn't leave him alone up there, did you?"  
  
"Quatre's with him, and for now, the newsies seem   
happy with him and Nichol."  
  
"I'll want to give them a statement as soon as we   
know anything, though," Une said.  
  
"Of course." He lifted the barrier tape, and led her   
to a small cluster of police and emergency workers.   
"Gentlemen, this is Lady Une, head of the   
Preventers."  
  
"Chief Ling," said the most senior of them, with a   
nod. "It's a pleasure, although I wish we'd met under   
better circumstances.  
  
Une nodded in greeting. "How's it look?" she asked   
quietly, hardly noticing when Trowa slipped off into   
the crowd, as seemed to be his way.  
  
"Not well, to be frank," said Ling. "We've got a lot   
of dead diplomats, and the kids..." He shook his   
head. "My son's one of them, and they haven't found   
him yet..."  
  
"We're looking, Chief," said another of the officers.  
  
Une laid a hand on his arm. "My daughter was there,   
as well..."  
  
"Damn," said Ling. "I don't know about you, but I   
can't just stand here, although that's what I'm   
/supposed/ to do..."  
  
Une nodded. "I know the feeling."  
  
* * *  
  
It was Trowa, joining the search teams inside the   
building, who found Mariemaia. The girl was curled on   
her side, bleeding from a cut on her forehead, and   
her left arm hung at an unnatural angle, which told   
Trowa it was broken.  
  
"Trowa?" the little girl asked as he kneeled beside   
her.  
  
"Yes," Trowa replied. "Don't try and move your arm,   
I'm fairly sure it's broken."  
  
"The others..." Mariemaia began.  
  
"Don't worry about them right now," Trowa said,   
picking her up very carefully and moving towards the   
exit.  
  
"Trowa?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"My arm really hurts. I think- I'd like to pass out   
now. Is that okay?"  
  
"It's fine," Trowa told the already unconscious   
Mariemaia. 


	5. Terra and Lucian

Title: Ghost Knight (5/?)  
Author: Anne Khushrenada  
Disclaimer: Standard. I don't own GW.  
Warnings: A little sap. Standard OOCs. Take pity; I   
need practice.  
  
Linnea Khushrenada lifted her skirts as she stepped   
over a pool of someone else's blood, and tried not to   
grimace. Though she tried very hard to maintain her   
composure, it was easy to see that she was not at all   
comfortable with the sights before her now.  
  
"Councilor, are you alright?" her aide called out.  
  
Linnea gave a sharp nod. "Yes," she said, her voice   
feathery soft and trembling. "I think so."  
  
/And if I wasn't,/ she thought, /someone would be   
rather sorry. I certainly didn't tell those fools to   
plant the bomb while /I/ was here!/  
  
At that moment, she was nearly run over by a young   
man in the uniform of the Preventers, a young man who   
held a slim red-haired girl in his arms.  
  
"Mariemaia!" Linnea gasped. She rushed after the   
young man. "You, stop there!"  
  
"I'm really quite busy, miss," the young man said, as   
he turned with a resigned sigh to face her. Linnea   
found herself looking into sharp green eyes. With   
those eyes and his reddish brown hair, this could   
only be Trowa Barton.  
  
"Yes, I know," Linnea said. "I'll only take a moment   
of your time- but you see, the girl you're carrying   
is Mariemaia Barton, my ward..."  
  
"I really don't think so," Trowa said quietly. "This   
is Mariemaia Khushrenada. And her guardian is Lady   
Une."  
  
"Of course, Une's been /looking after/ her," Linnea   
said softly. "And she's been such a dear about it,   
really, but I think now I shall relieve her of this   
burden..." Linnea reached out for Mariemaia. "Come   
here, sweetheart, it's alright..."  
  
Mariemaia stirred then, blue eyes slowly blinking   
open. She focused upon Linnea and frowned. "Who the   
fuck are you?"  
  
"I /beg/ your pardon?" Linnea gasped.  
  
It seemed all Trowa could do not to laugh.   
"Mariemaia," he said sharply. "Language, dear.   
Language."  
  
"Excuse me," Mariemaia said, rolling her eyes. "Who   
the fuck are you, /please/? Better, Uncle Trowa?"  
  
"Mariemaia!" Linnea gasped again. "Your father would   
be appalled."  
  
"Put me down, please, Trowa," Mariemaia said, and   
Trowa did so. She walked slowly towards the woman   
standing before her, and Linnea kneeled down so that   
they were at eye level. "My father," she said   
quietly, "would be appalled at the thought that   
someone whose name I don't even know has just   
announced her intention to take me away from my   
/mother/- practically the only mother I've ever   
known, not to /mention/ the woman whom my father   
wished to take care of me if anything ever happened   
to him. So I'll ask you again- Who are you?"  
  
"Councilor Linnea Khushrenada," the woman replied,   
brushing back a blonde curl from her face. "Your   
father's dearest cousin."  
  
"Oh," said Mariemaia. She paused. "I saw your letters   
to my mother. You've spelled my name wrong. And, no   
offence to Uncle Trowa, but I'm a Khushrenada, not a   
Barton."  
  
Linnea's jaw dropped. The nerve of this child...  
  
"If you'll excuse me," Mariemaia went on, "I think my   
mother, whom, by the way, Father loved a great deal,   
is looking for me."  
  
Though her arm was badly broken, and she was in a lot   
of pain, Mariemaia managed to walk without a single   
false step until she was out of Linnea's line of   
sight. Then she sagged against what remained of one   
of the building's walls.  
  
Trowa caught up with her there, a small smile playing   
across his face. "I'd say you just made yourself a   
dangerous enemy, kid," he said.  
  
"Maybe. But she probably was one to begin with. She   
wants Mother's twins, too."  
  
Trowa laughed. "Oh, that'll be the day... Speaking   
of, let's go find her, shall we?"  
  
* * *  
  
"Stupid, foolish onna," Wufei Chang muttered as he   
raced towards the Epyon. "Is she in there?" he asked   
one of the Preventers standing guard over the Gundam.  
  
"No," said the Preventer he'd addressed. /Nichol,/   
thought Wufei. /Much as I hate to admit it, I do wish   
one of us had managed to kill him in the war.../ "I   
guess she went to look for Treize's daughter."  
  
"You guess," Wufei said, his tone of voice clearly   
showing his irritation. "Why don't you make   
yourselves useful and power down the Epyon? She's not   
going back to Headquarters the way she got here."  
  
And then, as Nichol began to climb up towards the   
cockpit, Wufei exclaimed, "No, you fool, not /you./   
She'll never forgive you if you touch Epyon. I'll do   
it." Wufei shoved Nichol out of the way and climbed   
into the Gundam's cockpit, changing over the suit's   
systems from standby to powered down.  
  
As he returned to the ring of Preventers, Wufei   
glared at Nichol again. "Weren't you supposed to be   
up past the barricades, helping Quatre?"  
  
"I thought this was more important, for Lady Une... I   
know what this Gundam means to her."  
  
/You flew Leos,/ Wufei thought. /Somehow I don't   
think you have the slightest clue./ He made a   
dismissive gesture as he turned and walked away from   
Nichol.  
  
"Yo, Wu-man!"  
  
Only one person could possibly be that annoying, so   
Wufei didn't bother to look up before he nodded in   
greeting. "Maxwell. What's our status?"  
  
"Not good," Duo replied. "I've been checkin' out the   
scene, with the investigators, ours and the cops',   
both. This was a real pro job, not like the stuff we   
cobbled together back in '95. And that worries me,   
pal."  
  
"I must admit, it doesn't make me very happy,   
either," Wufei replied. "Where is Lady Une? She needs   
to know about this?"  
  
"I don't know. I was just going to find her when I   
saw you. Last I saw of her she was with Trowa, but   
he's probably vanished by now."  
  
* * *  
  
"Lady?"  
  
Lady Une turned at the sound of Trowa's voice. She   
smiled as she saw Mariemaia beside him. "Trowa. Good,   
you found her. Mariemaia, your arm-"  
  
"It's only broken," Mariemaia said. "I need to talk   
to you later, about Linnea."  
  
Une raised an eyebrow at that, but nodded. "Alright."  
  
"There she is," Une heard Duo say to Wufei, as the   
two former Gundam pilots approached.  
  
"Hey, Mariemaia, how about let's go get that arm   
checked out, huh?" Duo asked the girl. He looked over   
at Wufei. "Tell her," he mouthed as he led Mariemaia   
away from the others and towards where the paramedics   
had set up shop.  
  
"Is there something going on you don't want to tell   
me about?" Mariemaia asked.  
  
Duo sighed. There was just no fooling this kid, no   
matter how hard they tried. "I dunno," he said   
quietly. "Just something that doesn't sit right with   
me. The bomb that did all this looks professionally   
done. I asked Heero to check it out, and he's   
probably doing that now."  
  
"You guys know a lot about explosives," Mariemaia   
commented, her voice equally quiet. "But this is   
different?"  
  
"Almost military-grade," Duo replied with a sigh. "I   
have a suspicion, but I kind of hope I'm wrong about   
it."  
  
Mariemaia looked up at him then. "Duo... I didn't   
cause this, did I? When I was...working with Dekim,   
we didn't use explosives...much."  
  
"No, my theory is that the explosives were a little   
older, and, no offence, but a little better quality   
than what your Gramps whipped up in the garage."  
  
Mariemaia nodded. "Okay." She gave the paramedics a   
smile as they reached them. "We've pretty much   
figured out my arm is broken," she told them.  
  
"Is that all?" one of them asked.  
  
"That, and this cut." Mariemaia tapped her forehead.  
  
"Thank God," said the other, exchanging a look with   
Duo. For his part, Duo was glad that between her arm   
and everything else, Mariemaia had been a little out   
of it when they'd brought her out of the building.   
The less she'd seen of what had become of her   
classmates, the better.  
  
"Duo," Mariemaia said.  
  
"Yeah, kid." Something in her tone told him he didn't   
really want to hear what she had to say, but he was   
asking anyway, because he had to.  
  
"The police chief's son was in my class. David Ling.   
He must have been really close to where they planted   
the bomb. I saw him on my way out- torn in half." She   
clutched at her stomach, and one of the paramedics   
quickly produced a basin, into which Mariemaia was   
quietly sick for a moment or two.  
  
"Okay, hon," Duo said, squeezing her shoulder. "Where   
was David when-?"  
  
"He was heading for the bathroom. He'd been telling   
Miss Andrews for about ten minutes that he had to   
go..."  
  
Duo swore under his breath. "You be okay here for a   
bit? I've gotta go talk to your Mom and the others."  
  
"Yeah," said Mariemaia. "I'll be fine." Then she   
reached for the basin again.  
  
"Poor kid," said one of the paramedics. "What's your   
name, honey?"  
  
"Mariemaia." She set the basin aside. "What happened   
to David?"  
  
"They took him to the hospital," the paramedic said.   
"They'll do what they can." His expression told   
Mariemaia that her friend's chances weren't good, and   
she sighed.  
  
* * *  
  
The Place Between Worlds  
  
Treize had to physically restrain his hands from   
reaching out to grab Death by the collar of his black   
robes, and shaking the specter very roughly. His   
hands clenched into fists at his sides, and it was   
all he could do to keep a margin of civility in his   
voice.  
  
"Was this your idea of a joke?" he asked. "Perhaps   
your way of reminding me that your promises are as   
binding as mine? Because if it /was/-"  
  
"Not at all," said Death. "I played no part in this.   
Although it is clear to me that one of your blood   
/did./ I can, of course, say no more."  
  
"You don't have to," Treize replied. "Damn you,   
Linnea..."  
  
"That one," Death said sagely, "may damn herself with   
little help from you."  
  
"Perhaps," Treize said, revealing no more of his   
thoughts to Death than that, but thinking very hard.   
Although from the specter's expression, it was clear   
that he sensed this, or somehow knew it.  
  
"You are plotting, Ghost Knight."  
  
"You wouldn't wish me to become bored with eternity,   
would you?" Treize countered. "And since you seem to   
know everything, why should I waste my time   
explaining myself to you?"  
  
"Because I still hold power over you, Ghost Knight."  
  
"Less and less as the days pass, old friend. And I   
know these when they pass now, where as you do not."  
  
"I am Death. I know all."  
  
"And if you did, we would not be having this   
conversation."  
  
Death sighed. "Was there something you wanted?"  
  
"Yes. I had a question, and I've asked it."  
  
"You cannot stop her from what she does, Ghost   
Knight."  
  
Treize turned back to face the specter then, one   
eyebrow curiously- infuriatingly, Death thought -  
raised. "If I were you, I wouldn't be so quick to   
tell me what I may and may not do."  
  
"I am Death, lad. Taunting me is not wise."  
  
"And I am the Ghost Knight." It was the first time he   
had spoken of himself by the name Death had given   
him. "It is not wise to taunt me, either."  
  
Death smiled, a rather hideous sight, one which   
Treize had become rather familiar with. He did not   
spook easily now, not as he might have years ago,   
when he had been newly dead, and very much convinced   
that he held no more power than any other soul,   
certainly less power than Death. He was less sure now   
that was true, but chose to dwell only upon the   
matter of the powers he needed immediately. The rest   
would come in time. And time was something he had   
plenty of.  
  
* * *  
  
Five months later  
February AC 200  
  
"-And stay off your feet, I mean it," Sally Po Chang   
concluded her lecture, and Lady Une smiled.  
  
"I'll try my best, Sal," she said.  
  
Sally threw up her hands. She set her medical bag   
upon the coffee table in Une's living room, and took   
a seat upon the edge of the couch upon which her   
friend lay. "I'm serious, Une. You're not looking too   
good."  
  
"I'm just tired," Une replied. "These two-" she   
gestured to her swollen belly "-take a lot out of me.   
And how are /you/ doing, my slightly-less-pregnant-  
than-I Mrs. Chang?"  
  
Sally laughed. "I honestly think Wufei is having a   
more difficult time of this than I am. Little does he   
know..."  
  
There was a knock upon the living room door, and   
Sally sighed at the same moment Lady Une did.  
  
"What?" Sally called out.  
  
"Doctor? It's Preventer Nichol. I just need to speak   
to Lady Une for a moment..."  
  
Une sighed. "It had better be business," she said   
quietly. "Come in, Nichol, but keep it brief."  
  
Nichol stepped hesitantly into the room, ducking   
Sally's glare, a look many of the higher-ranking   
Preventers seemed to adopt whenever he approached   
Lady Une. "We just got the final report on the   
Council bomb."  
  
"And?" asked Une.  
  
"It was like we figured. The bomb was planted in the   
men's bathroom. Mariemaia got it exactly right."  
  
"Speaking of, how's her friend doing- the Ling boy?"   
Sally asked.  
  
"Recovering, thankfully," Une replied. "They weren't   
able to save his legs, but at least he'll live."  
  
"Poor kid," said Sally.  
  
"Anyway," Nichol went on, seeming irritated by the   
interruption, "it looked to be set on a timer, rather   
than a detonator."  
  
"And what of the makeup of the device?" Une asked.  
  
"Standard OZ explosives," Nichol said with a resigned   
sigh. "We were all kind of hoping Maxwell had pegged   
that one wrong."  
  
"I had the same thought," Une replied, "having used   
similar explosives a time or two..." She gave a   
little shudder. /I am sorry, Relena. To this day, I   
am sorry./ "I'd like the full report sent to my   
terminal here, Nichol."  
  
"Yes, ma'am. I'll see that you get it as soon as I   
get back to the office."  
  
"Thank you. Was there anything else?"  
  
"No, Lady Une."  
  
Une started to reply, then gave a little gasp and   
clutched at her stomach. "Oh... honestly,   
children..."  
  
"You okay?" asked Nichol.  
  
"Fine," Une replied a bit irritably. Then, to Sally   
she added, "They are /active/ at times, aren't they?"  
  
"I think my little one has designs on becoming a Kung   
Fu master," Sally replied. "Wufei didn't find that as   
amusing as I did, though..."  
  
"Mm," said Une. She drew a deep, shuddering breath.   
"Sally," she said, and something in the way she spoke   
her friend's name caused the other woman to look at   
her, quickly, noting the lines of strain upon her   
face, then to look just as quickly at Nichol.  
  
"Out," Sally said curtly. "Now."  
  
Nichol hurried for the door, glancing back every so   
often until Sally's expression sent him from the room   
at last. Sally herself turned back to Lady Une.  
  
"The twins?" she asked.  
  
"Yes. Very soon, I think..."  
  
* * *  
  
Six hours later  
  
"Oh, for the love of GOD! Treize, if you weren't dead   
already, I swear by all that's holy I'd kill you   
MYSELF!"  
  
Milliardo winced as he ducked into the waiting room,   
balancing several cups of coffee upon a cheap plastic   
tray. "I see I haven't missed much," he said,   
resuming his seat beside Mariemaia.  
  
She took one of the cups, sniffed at it and made a   
face, but took a long sip anyway. "Not really," the   
girl said. "I've picked up some really interesting   
additions to my vocabulary, though... even though I   
still don't see how it would be possible for Father   
to do /that/ with the horse he rode in on /and/   
Grandfather Lucian at the same time."  
  
Milliardo looked at his wife over the girl's head.   
Lucrezia Noin-Peacecraft, for her part, was clearly   
snickering behind her hand.  
  
Sally stepped into the waiting room, sweat on her   
brow and hair coming loose from her braids. "Will one   
of you," she asked between deep breaths, "please come   
in here and hold her hand?"  
  
Looks were exchanged. No one said a word, each   
busying themselves with checking wristwatches or the   
clock upon the wall, sipping at their coffee and   
pretending they had no part in this affair   
whatsoever.  
  
"Nichol'd do it, I bet," Duo spoke up at last. "And   
he's about the only person I'd wish this one on, I'm   
afraid."  
  
Lucrezia stood and handed her half-empty coffee cup   
to her husband. "Men," she remarked to Sally.   
"Cowards, the whole lot of them. I'll go, if no one   
minds."  
  
"Please," Milliardo said.  
  
With another shake of her head, Lucrezia followed   
Sally into the delivery room, where she took her   
place at the head of the bed, offering Lady Une her   
hand.  
  
"Hi," said Lucrezia. "How're you holding up?"  
  
"I'm- going- to- kill- him."  
  
"Honey, he's already dead," Noin replied, squeezing   
her friend's hand.  
  
* * *  
  
Lady Une drifted in a sea of pain, barely conscious   
of Lucrezia's hand in hers, of Sally's calm words, or   
the movement of anyone or anything around her. She   
wanted to weep from the pain but found that she   
couldn't. When she forced her eyes open at last, the   
world before her was hazy and white.  
  
And standing at the foot of her bed, as if he had   
always been there, was Treize.  
  
The father of her children approached her with   
tenderness in his eyes, and a kind smile. He sat on   
the edge of the bed and reached out a cool hand to   
touch her cheek. "Hello, Angel," he said softly.  
  
"Treize," she whispered. "You can touch me again. Am   
I- am I dead?"  
  
"No, Lady. Not yet. But you are very badly hurt. The   
birth has- has taken a lot out of you. You're- well,   
there's a great deal of blood, and it is not done   
yet. The second twin..."  
  
"Oh no," she gasped. "Treize, I... if I die, who will   
take care of them? The twins? Mariemaia? They are my   
life. They need me, as I need them."  
  
"I know, Lady. And though I proved stronger once than   
Death, there is naught I can do here. If it is your   
time..."  
  
A tear trickled down her cheek, and tenderly he   
kissed her brow. "Did you decide what to name them?"   
he asked softly. "Our twins?"  
  
She smiled. "Yes. Terra, for the girl."  
  
Treize returned her smile with one of his own.   
"Terra. Earth. It's perfect, Une. And the boy?"  
  
"Lucian," she said. "I hope you don't mind..."  
  
"No," Treize said. "It's fitting. I think even my   
stubborn old fool of a father would approve."  
  
"Treize, I... I want to stay with you, but I have   
this feeling that... that I'm not supposed to, yet.   
Wait for me?"  
  
"Forever, Lady. Forever."  
  
"I love you, Treize."  
  
* * *  
  
"...love you, Treize."  
  
Lucrezia looked sharply at Sally, but the doctor,   
having wrapped the first twin and passed her off to a   
nurse, was busy now, working to save the other.  
  
"I was afraid you'd left us, Lady," Sally said, as   
the first twin, the girl, began to cry.  
  
"Not yet," Une replied. "Sally...why is only one of   
them crying?"  
  
"He's just got the cord wrapped around his neck,   
Lady... it happens."  
  
"Oh, God..."  
  
Sally worked on the second twin herself, calling one   
of the nurses to assist her. The other woman sighed.   
"It's not going to make it, Doctor. What's the   
point?"  
  
Lady Une, hearing this, was furious. "/His/ name is   
Lucian," she snarled at the nurse, "and he is my son.   
Sally-"  
  
Before Sally could answer, Lucian joined his more   
vocal sister by beginning to cry.   
  
Une heaved a sigh of relief. "Lucrezia? Would you go   
get Mariemaia, please?"  
  
"Of course," said Lucrezia, vanishing back out into   
the waiting room. "She's fine," she reported to the   
anxious-looking gathering. "So are the twins, near as   
I can tell. Mariemaia, she wants you."  
  
Mariemaia followed Lucrezia back into the delivery   
room, where they found Sally beside Lady Une's bed, a   
twin in each arm, issuing orders to the nurses.  
  
"Here they are, Lady Une," Sally said, presenting the   
twins to their mother, who cradled them in her arms.  
  
"Oh," said Mariemaia. "I didn't expect them to be   
so...small."  
  
Une gestured her closer with a hooked finger. "Come   
meet your brother and sister, Mariemaia. This is   
Terra, your sister, and Lucian, your brother."  
  
Une smiled, then looked up at Sally uncertainly. "I   
feel rather faint," she said softly.  
  
"Not surprising. You lost a lot of blood." Sally   
turned to the nurses. "Let's move on that   
transfusion, shall we?" To Lucrezia and Mariemaia she   
added, "You may want to head back to the waiting room   
for a bit. We need to do some cleaning up..."  
  
"I'm gone," said Mariemaia. "I've seen enough blood   
in my lifetime, I don't want to see any more."  
  
"Smart kid," Lucrezia said, before following her from   
the room.  
  
* * *  
  
Lady Une sat before the window in her hospital room,   
gazing out at the night beyond the glass. Terra lay   
still and contemplative in her arms, blue eyes gazing   
outward. Une smiled down at her daughter.  
  
"That's our world," Une said quietly. "The Earth you   
were named after. It's lovely, isn't it? But it   
wasn't always. Someday I will tell you about your   
father, and a group of brave young people, and how   
they changed that world..."  
  
She stifled a yawn. It was growing late, and the only   
sound within the room was the steady drip of her IV.  
  
"Showing her the scenery, huh?" Sally asked from the   
doorway.  
  
Une turned her head, smiling as she saw Lucian   
cradled in the doctor's arms. "Yes. How's he doing?"  
  
"Better. He's still a little weak, but we think all   
he really needs is some rest."  
  
"I know I could use that," Une said. "I have never   
been so tired in my entire life..."  
  
Sally approached her and placed Lucian in her arms.   
"Let me help you back to bed, my friend. That's where   
you really ought to be right now, anyway."  
  
"I'm too tired to argue," said Une. "But- do the   
twins have to go back?"  
  
"Until you're up to getting out of bed to see to them   
when they start crying, yes," Sally replied. "Trust   
me. Enjoy this while you can."  
  
"Thanks," Une replied, scarcely noticing as Sally   
took the twins from her and pulled the blankets up to   
her chin. She was asleep before Sally had left the   
room.  
  
* * *  
  
When Une woke again, sunlight illuminated the sight   
of at least two dozen roses upon the windowsill. She   
smiled and shook her head.  
  
"Aren't those lovely?" asked the young nurse who was   
adjusting something on her IV. "You're not really   
supposed to have them- hospital rules -but they don't   
seem to irritate you at all, and they /are/ rather   
pretty."  
  
"Yes," Une agreed. "Could you bring me the card with   
them, please? I'm afraid I wasn't awake when they   
arrived."  
  
"That's not surprising," the nurse replied, as she   
went to fetch the card. "You had kind of a long day   
yesterday. I've got twins myself, so I know what you   
went through."  
  
"Have you seen them?" Une asked as she took the card.   
"My twins?"  
  
"Yes," the other woman said. "They're adorable. They   
have such pretty blue eyes..."  
  
Une nodded. "Their father's," she said as she opened   
the card, half afraid of what she might find. But the   
card read simply, 'With all my love. T. K.' She   
smiled.  
  
"I hope I'm not being nosy," the nurse began. "But   
I've been wondering... Where /is/ the twins' father?"  
  
"He's dead." Une set the card aside with a sigh.  
  
"Oh...I'm sorry."  
  
* * *  
  
When next she woke, the sky was dark again, and the   
rocking chair beside her bed was occupied. Treize sat   
there, transparent but surprisingly solid, for he   
held Lucian in his arms. He smiled as he saw her   
looking at them.  
  
"Hi," Une said quietly.  
  
"Hello." He leaned over to kiss her gently, a kiss   
that was like the breath of a warm breeze. "I'm   
afraid I can't stay long, but I wanted to stop by, to   
see you and the little ones."  
  
"I...almost died, didn't I?" she asked. "No one   
really wants to talk about it, but I need to know."  
  
"Yes," he said quietly, "you nearly did. But it   
wasn't your time, and that made all the difference."  
  
Une nodded. "You've seen Lucian, obviously..."  
  
"Yes. And Terra. She looks quite a bit like you-   
which means, of course, that she's going to break   
hearts when she gets older."  
  
She groaned softly. "Please, not for a while... I   
don't think I'm ready for that yet."  
  
"Nor am I," the ghost agreed.  
  
The sound of the door creaking open startled them   
both, and Treize, Une noticed with a small smile,   
instinctively clutched his son closer, as if   
protecting him.  
  
"Lady Une?" called out the unmistakable, unwelcome   
voice of Nichol. "I just wanted to- Oh. What on   
Earth-?"  
  
Treize simply nodded in polite greeting. "Good   
evening, Nichol."  
  
The other man paled. "Wha-?" said Nichol, an instant   
before he was shoved aside by Mariemaia, as she raced   
into the room.  
  
"Father!" she exclaimed.  
  
Nichol withdrew quickly from the room, and as the   
door swung shut behind him, they could all hear his   
running footsteps on the tiled floor outside.  
  
Mariemaia snickered. "I take it he's not staying?"  
  
* * *  
  
Nichol raced around the corner, and crashed into   
Milliardo Peacecraft, who was just rounding the   
corner from the other direction.  
  
"Whoa there, slow down, man," said Duo Maxwell, who   
followed right behind Milliardo.  
  
"I- I- I," Nichol stammered, "s-saw..." He shook his   
head. "Y-you wouldn't believe..."  
  
"You saw?" Milliardo helped him along. "Saw, what?"  
  
"A- a g-ghost..."  
  
The others exchanged looks, and Duo made a warding   
sign as Nichol drifted away. "Whatever he's taking,   
remind me to steer clear of."  
  
Milliardo, and Duo, along with Trowa, Quatre, and the   
others filed into Lady Une's hospital room, Noin and   
Relena glancing suspiciously around.  
  
"I hear this place is haunted," Relena said. She   
looked from Lady Une laying in bed, to Mariemaia   
sitting in the chair, rocking her little brother, and   
shook her head. "I don't see anything..." 


	6. Death's Companion

Title: Ghost Knight 6/?  
Author: Anne Khushrenada  
Disclaimer: *sigh* This again? I'll return Treize's   
ghost, Mariemaia, the Gundam pilots, and Lady Une   
when I'm through with them, but the twins, Alice, and   
(shudder) Linnea are all mine.   
  
Two months later  
April, AC 200  
  
Lady Une reached for her jacket with one arm,   
cradling Lucian against her with the other. "Shh,   
shh, it's alright, darling..."  
  
Lucian, his deep blue eyes gazing into hers, seemed   
to grow calmer at his mother's words, as if he knew   
and trusted the truth of them. Trusted /her/, to keep   
him safe. It might have been more amusing if someone   
other than herself had been cast in the starring   
role.  
  
"I am /not/ cut out for this," she said, struggling   
to shrug into the jacket without having to set Lucian   
down, for as soon as she did that, he'd start up   
again.  
  
"Yes you are, Lady Une," said Alice McKenzie, once   
her assistant in the days when the two of them had   
served OZ. Alice held Terra, who was amusing herself   
by playing with the blonde woman's loose hair. Alice   
didn't seem to mind it much, and the even-tempered   
young woman had seemed very much a godsend when Une   
had brought the twins home. She truly didn't know how   
she would have managed to cope without Alice.  
  
"I know, I just-" Une sighed, managing at last to   
juggle Lucian long enough to stuff her other arm into   
the coat sleeve. "Sorry, little one. Alice, I just   
feel... Oh, it wasn't supposed to be like this, I   
wasn't supposed to have to do it alone."  
  
"You're not alone, Lady," Alice said, smiling as   
Terra giggled at her. "You've got more friends than   
you know. Me, the Peacecrafts, Dorothy and Catherine   
and all the others. Not to mention-" Here Alice's   
gaze turned briefly to the single red rose now   
adoring Lady Une's desk in a crystal vase, the rose   
which had been there for months now "-You Know Who."  
  
Une smiled at that. "I wouldn't go around speaking   
about that much if I were you. Enough people think us   
all mad as is."  
  
Alice laughed. "How little they know. I've got to   
admit that even I don't totally understand it, but I   
don't need to. You and Mariemaia both say he's still   
around- sort of, as Mariemaia put it. That's good   
enough for me."  
  
Une nodded. "I'm late!" she exclaimed. "And I still   
haven't anything new for the Council on the bombing,   
either. I'm sure they'll love that."  
  
"They'll get over it," said Alice. "I sent Heero and   
Wufei to talk to them in your place, by the way...   
you need a break."  
  
"I took a break when I had the twins."  
  
"Two months is not enough time."  
  
Une shrugged back out of her coat, and collapsed into   
the chair, Lucian still in her arms. "Perhaps you're   
right." She drew a sudden sharp breath. "Alice. You   
sent them Heero and /Wufei/?"  
  
"Yes. What's wrong with that?"  
  
Une sighed. "Of all the Preventers, their social   
skills are the- how shall I phrase this? -least   
developed."  
  
"Wufei's not so bad- Sally's been working on him, I   
think. And anyway, Nichol's worse." Alice made a sour   
face, which Terra attempted to copy, with interesting   
results. "He keeps calling, you know. I still think   
you should have accepted Duo's offer to go and beat   
some sense into him."  
  
Une shook her head. "I don't think it would take,"   
she said, "although it's probably about the only   
thing that hasn't been tried yet. It wouldn't work,   
though."  
  
"Doesn't it /have/ to work, by virtue of its being   
the only thing left?"  
  
"That'd be nice," Mariemaia said as she entered the   
room. She placed her hands on her hips and shot her   
mother a disapproving look. "You're not going /out/,   
are you?"  
  
"No," said Lady Une with a laugh. "Let us just say   
that Alice talked me out of it."  
  
Alice looked to Lady Une, some unspoken question in   
her eyes, and Une nodded. Only then did Alice hand   
Terra to her mother, and approach the girl.  
  
"Mariemaia, Quatre's sister, Iria, called earlier. Do   
you know who she is?"  
  
"The doctor," Mariemaia replied, "right? She's some   
kind of geneticist, I think."  
  
"That's right. She's been doing some regen work with   
your friend David."  
  
Mariemaia's face lit up. "So he'll be able to walk   
again?"  
  
"Maybe. Depends how well the regen takes- or if it   
takes at all. But they don't have him as heavily   
sedated anymore, and Iria says he wants to see you.   
He's been kind of insistent, actually..."  
  
"Mother-" Mariemaia began.  
  
Une smiled. "I can see how much it means to you,   
Mariemaia. If you'd like to go and see your friend,   
by all means, go. But- be careful."  
  
"Don't worry," Mariemaia said with a smile. "Mister   
Ling, David's father, has police officers watching   
all the bombing survivors who are still in the   
hospital, and that includes David." She bounded out   
of the room, calling over her shoulder, "Just let me   
get my coat."  
  
"Take her, please," Une said to Alice. "But be extra   
careful."  
  
"You know something I don't, boss?" Alice asked.  
  
"Not really, but I do have a feeling that whomever   
set or had set the bomb in the Council chamber hasn't   
reached their goals yet."  
  
Alice didn't speak for a long moment. Then she said,   
"What are the chances of them making an attempt, or   
attempts, upon the survivors?"  
  
Une sighed. "I'm very sorry to see I'm not the only   
one who thought of that. And truthfully I don't know.   
If they're going to go that route, and they have the   
means to know about it, Mariemaia and David in the   
same room will be a tempting target. But I can't   
simply lock her away and hope that no one finds a way   
to hurt her. It's a fine line, between too much   
protection and too little, and it will grow finer as   
she grows."  
  
Alice nodded. "You know I'll watch her like a hawk,   
Lady," she said. "And, let's face it- if someone can   
get her in the police chief's son's hospital room,   
we've got real troubles." On that happy note she went   
into the hall to wait for Mariemaia, calling out,   
"C'mon, kiddo, let's go for a drive, shall we?"  
  
* * *  
  
Mariemaia and Alice stepped off the elevator, and the   
little girl glanced about, nodding as she noted the   
presence of the uniformed police officers. Chief Ling   
himself stood out in the hall near the door to his   
son's room, speaking quietly with the young   
policewoman seated beside the door.  
  
"Ah, Miss Mariemaia," Ling said, giving her a tired   
smile. "David will be glad to see you."  
  
Mariemaia nodded in greeting. "How's he doing?"  
  
"Fairly well...considering. How's your mother?"  
  
"She's well, sir."  
  
"And the little ones?"  
  
"They're doing fine."  
  
Alice looked at Mariemaia and sighed. "Things would   
go so much easier for you if you were this polite to   
everyone."  
  
"I see no reason to be polite to everyone," Mariemaia   
replied. "I save that for those who deserve my   
respect."  
  
Ling turned to Alice, a curious expression upon his   
face.  
  
Alice offered her hand. "Alice McKenzie, of the   
Preventers. I work for Lady Une."  
  
Ling shook her hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss   
McKenzie. Mariemaia, you can go on in if you'd like."  
  
"Thanks," said Mariemaia, as she stepped up to the   
door and pulled it open.  
  
Ling sagged against the wall once she was gone. "I   
simply do not understand this," he said at last. "Do   
you have children, Preventer McKenzie?"  
  
Alice shook her head. "No, sir, I don't. My lover   
died during the war, and my work keeps me busy now,   
too busy to find another one even if I wanted to.   
I've been helping Lady Une with the twins, though..."  
  
Ling nodded. "They're so fragile, children. You think   
that you can protect them, but the minute you let   
them out into the world..."  
  
* * *  
  
Mariemaia settled herself in the chair beside David's   
bed, scratching at the plaster of her cast. The thing   
itched, had itched for several long weeks now, and   
she wanted it /off./  
  
"Hey," said David Ling. "You made it, good."  
  
Mariemaia nodded. "It seemed important. My mother's   
kind of busy with the twins, but..."  
  
David sighed. "I remembered some stuff, about that   
day we went to the Council."  
  
"Yeah?" asked Mariemaia.  
  
"There was this lady, I saw her when I was- you   
know..."  
  
"When you were walking to the bathroom."  
  
"Yeah. She was acting really strange, you know,   
stomping around like she was angry."  
  
A sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, Mariemaia   
said, "Describe her."  
  
"Around your Mom's age I'd guess, maybe a little   
older. Blonde, pretty, sort of... fairy tale   
princess-like."  
  
"Delicate," Mariemaia supplied. "Like she's going to   
break. But she's got these eyes- grey, almost silver   
-and they look right through you."  
  
"You saw her, too," David said flatly.  
  
"Let's just say we've met. I know who she is."  
  
"Does that...help you guys any, Mariemaia? I don't   
want the people who did this to do it again."  
  
"Me neither," said Mariemaia. "Listen, David... I'm   
glad you're going to be sort of okay, and I'd like to   
stick around and talk-"  
  
"But you think this might be important, and you want   
to take it to the Preventers?"  
  
"To my mother, yes."  
  
"Okay. Can you come back and see me sometime?"  
  
"Sure, David." Mariemaia squeezed his hand. "If you   
remember anything else, tell your father."  
  
She exited the room then, struggling with the door,   
banging her cast against the doorframe. Ling and   
Alice moved to help her, and she waved them off   
sharply. "I've got it." She looked up at the cop.   
"Mister Ling...?"  
  
"Yes, Mariemaia?"  
  
"I asked David to let you know if he remembers   
anything else about what happened. If he does-"  
  
"I'll get in touch with Lady Une," Ling promised.   
  
"Thanks." Mariemaia turned towards the elevator,   
alone, and Alice rushed after her.  
  
"Mariemaia-"  
  
"I'm going home. I'll be fine. See you later."  
  
Alice shook her head as she watched her go.   
"Mariemaia..."  
  
"How badly has the bombing affected her?" Ling asked   
her. "She seems so...so..."  
  
"Bitter," Alice supplied. "That's the best I can come   
up with. And she's always been like that."  
  
* * *  
  
"Father," Mariemaia said softly to the gravestone   
before her, "I don't understand this. Help me figure   
out what to do! I know what David's telling me, and I   
think I even know what it means, but... no one   
understands, really. They think I'm overreacting. How   
can I show them she's really dangerous?"  
  
But from her father there was no answer. Mariemaia   
could not shake herself of the thought that he would   
have answered her mother. He would have come to her   
aid in a heartbeat, as it seemed he always did...  
  
* * *  
  
The Place Between Worlds - Well of Souls  
  
Treize watched his daughter, and was grieved that he   
could not go to her. But Death stood firm, and   
something troubled the specter to such an extent that   
even Treize, even the Ghost Knight, would not cross   
him unless he felt it absolutely necessary.  
  
"Leave the affairs of the living, to the living,"   
Death snapped. "Come away from there, and let us   
speak."  
  
"Of what?" Treize asked. "I am neither living nor   
dead; You say I cannot have any part in their world,   
yet I feel I have none in yours."  
  
"You do, and before you interfere further, I would   
tell you of it."  
  
"Once you said you could not tell me what I was."  
  
"Once, I did not know. It has been such a long   
time..." Death drew him away from the Well of Souls.   
"Come. I will show you."  
  
And because he knew not what else to do, and the   
specter's words had made him curious, Treize walked   
with Death. Along the edge of the River of   
Forgetfulness they walked, and Death gestured to this   
River as he spoke.  
  
"See the River, here," Death said. "The River that   
rejected you once, and would do so again, were you to   
attempt to enter it. Your fate is not to be that of   
many, then."  
  
Treize smiled lightly. "Are you saying that you were   
wrong?"  
  
"You must not think of it in those terms. What is,   
is. What I thought of it does not matter."  
  
"You are Death," said Treize.  
  
"I am the spirit of Death, yes," said the specter,   
and Treize found this distinction interesting indeed.   
"And there is a reason I call you Ghost Knight. It   
is- what you are. I have known it all along..."  
  
"What?" asked Treize.  
  
"Your powers, the abilities you should not have, but   
which you do possess. These come to you from what you   
are. The Ghost Knight. Death's Companion."  
  
"I have never heard of such things."  
  
"Of course you would not have," Death rather scoffed   
at him. "Foolish to think you would have. There has   
not been a Ghost Knight in more ages than you could   
measure."  
  
"Dare one ask what became of the last to hold this   
honorable post?" Treize asked.  
  
Death patted his arm almost affectionately. "You call   
us old friends, you and I, Treize. And you cannot   
imagine how old. /I/ was Ghost Knight once, to   
another Death."  
  
"Another-? But Death is eternal."  
  
"The force called death is, certainly. But Death   
begins his reign as any other soul- but a soul given   
a special choice, the choice to inhabit this realm   
for a time, discharging the duties of Death. And the   
exact details of what those entail, you need not know   
yet."  
  
"Yet," Treize said. Then, after a long, thought-  
filled pause, "You were given a choice. Why was I   
not?"  
  
"Ah, but you were. Your heart made the choice for   
you. When first I saw you here, I called you by that   
ages old name, Ghost Knight, and did not think to   
question why it was I did this. But tell me, do you   
truly believe I would grant a boon to any soul who   
might chance to pass this way, simply because they   
ask it of me? Particularly a boon so very great..."  
  
"I chose this," Treize said. "I understand. I /did/   
choose. But now- What?"  
  
"It is as you have doubtless seen, hardly easy to be   
Death's Companion, the friend of Death. This is a   
great burden to bear, do not mistake it. But there   
are- compensations. Your powers- you have used thus   
far not even half of what you possess. You cannot   
live again, not this way, but you may do nearly   
anything else you might wish to."  
  
"Show me, then, how I might protect the children,   
keep them safe from harm."  
  
"Ah, Ghost Knight. No. That, I fear, is not possible.   
I was not entirely truthful when I told you what the   
price of my boon would be. For because I am both the   
present and the future, I knew that were you to go to   
your Lady, one of the three children would return to   
me. It is a certainty, it is not a thing which you or   
I could stop."  
  
"You made me flesh and blood. You gave me the freedom   
to aid her whenever she called me, and the power to   
help send her back when she nearly died of the   
birthing of the twins. And that is but a small   
measure of your power."  
  
"Yes," said Death, "but over life I have no power,   
only death."  
  
"Then simply prevent the death."  
  
The specter shook his head. "I cannot. All things,   
all beings, die."  
  
"But my children...so young..."  
  
"Yes," Death agreed, "but listen, hear the words I   
would say to you. Of all who ever have or ever will   
reside in this realm, only the Ghost Knight can touch   
the realms of the living. Only he or she can affect   
physical change there."  
  
"You did those things," Treize said again. "Your   
power worked the necessary magic."  
  
"Yours did, lad," Death said. "All the magic, the   
power that was needed, came from you. You have   
transformed yourself, always- flesh to spirit, and   
back again. You made what choice you would, and I   
bestowed upon you the powers. From that point on they   
were yours to do with as you would."  
  
"And the River-"  
  
"I sent you to the River to test you, to see what   
both you and it would do. If it accepted you, you   
were not the one, and you would have remembered   
naught of it in that case. But if it were to cast you   
out, to deny you passage- that alone would have been   
remarkable enough. Even more so is that you fought   
it. You /fought/ it. No one in my living memory had   
ever done such a thing, though many, perhaps   
everyone, may have tried. Few succeeded- those who do   
are marked."  
  
"Marked by what? Or whom?"  
  
"The fates, destiny, whatever you would term it."  
  
"And if I do not believe in those things, what then?"  
  
"Your belief is not required. The universe knows the   
truth, and your doubt is not enough to shake the   
foundations upon which it rests. But for my part I   
would hope that you would come to see this world, our   
world, with eyes opened anew. Come, there is much I   
must show you, Ghost Knight."  
  
"Yes," Treize said softly. "There is much I wish to   
see. And I have very many questions."  
  
* * *  
  
Mariemaia found her mother laying upon the couch in   
the library, a book open in her hands.  
  
"Mother?"  
  
Lady Une set the book aside. "Mariemaia."  
  
"Twins asleep?" Mariemaia asked.  
  
"For now, at least. You look troubled. What's wrong?"  
  
"David saw somebody just before the bomb went off,   
acting suspiciously."  
  
Mariemaia had her mother's full attention now, that   
much was clear. "Who?"  
  
"From his description, it almost has to be Linnea."  
  
"Um." Une sighed. "That's not exactly what I wanted   
to hear."  
  
"But you're not surprised."  
  
"No. Unfortunately not." Une glanced at the clock   
upon the wall. "Is Alice still here?"  
  
"Probably. She never goes home. Want me to check?"  
  
"Yes, if you don't mind. Oh- Mariemaia?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"How is your friend doing?"  
  
"Seems alright," Mariemaia replied.  
  
Une sighed, but Mariemaia had already gone from the   
room.  
  
* * *  
  
Alice sat wordlessly across from Lady Une, fingers   
toying with her blonde braid. "You look troubled, old   
friend."  
  
"I said nearly the same to Mariemaia. Her friend,   
David Ling, observed Linnea Khushrenada acting   
suspiciously just before the bomb went off."  
  
"She's a politician. Isn't she acting suspiciously by   
definition?"  
  
"Perhaps," Une said. "But something doesn't feel   
right about this..."  
  
* * *  
  
"For now, we wait." Linnea Khushrenada finished her   
speech to her small but powerful group of supporters   
with a chilling smile. "Another five years, perhaps   
ten...and then we will begin."  
  
"Why wait so long?" asked one man.  
  
"Because they will expect us to move more quickly   
than that, for one thing," Linnea said quietly. "And   
for another... Can any of us manage one infant, let   
alone a pair of them?"  
  
"We only need one," said the man. Then: "The twins?"  
  
"Yes. Terra or Lucian, matters not. If we get one,   
we'll have the other in no time. And then, my   
friends, the future is ours." 


	7. Linnea

Title: Ghost Knight 7/?  
Author: Anne Khushrenada  
Disclaimer: Standard. Gundam belongs to other people.  
  
AC 210  
Summer  
  
In the years since the birth of the twins, Lady Une's   
small family had grown close, Mariemaia aiding and   
defending the twins as needed, and Terra and Lucian   
were always more than willing to stand beside one   
another. Une felt great pride as she looked upon the   
three of them, though friends saw pain in her eyes   
when they looked upon Lucian, for he resembled his   
father more with each passing day. For the most part,   
though, she found her life both busy and fulfilling,   
with the children, her career, and the former   
comrades and enemies alike who had come together to   
form a massive /extended/ family, both for her   
children and theirs.  
  
Terra and Lucian were of an age with Elena   
Peacecraft, and Lewis Chang, and just now these four,   
whom had been friends nearly from birth, were   
celebrating the ending of the school term, along with   
their younger sibs and cousins, under the amused but   
ever-watchful eyes of Pagan, who was now into his   
eighties, but still managed to keep up with them, for   
the most part.  
  
Lady Une, meanwhile, sat with Elena's parents,   
Milliardo and Lucrezia, as well as Lewis', Sally and   
Wufei, talking of old times and smiling far more than   
she had in years past. The parents of the younger   
children, Heero and Relena, Duo and Hilde, Trowa and   
Quatre, and- the most surprising development of the   
recent years - Catherine and Dorothy, soon joined the   
adults' gathering, freeing their younglings, adopted   
ones in the cases of the latter two couples, to join   
the fray upon the back lawn.  
  
* * *  
  
"Terra, who's that woman?"  
  
Terra Khushrenada looked up at the sound of Elena   
Peacecraft's voice. Her 'cousin', Uncle Milliardo and   
Aunt Lucrezia's daughter, was perhaps her best friend   
aside from Lucian, and they had been sitting for a   
time in companionable silence, apart from the others.   
Both girls were quiet, introverted, and it made for a   
marked contrast between them and their brothers,   
Terra's twin, and Elena's younger brother, Galen,   
both of whom were bold and outgoing.  
  
"That's-" Terra began to speak, but her breath caught   
in her throat as she recognized the woman striding   
across the grass in a swirl of white skirts, towards   
the stairs to the balcony upon which her mother and   
the others sat. "Linnea," she whispered. "Mariemaia!"  
  
Seventeen year old Mariemaia, who had been strolling   
along the grounds, arm in arm with her boyfriend,   
David Ling (who, thanks to regenerative surgery   
preformed by the brilliant Iria Winner, was able to   
walk again, on his own two feet), turned sharply at   
the sound of her little sister's voice. "Ter?" she   
called. Then, "Oh, God. Mother!"  
  
Une's head snapped around to look in the direction   
which Mariemaia pointed, her arm straight as an   
arrow.  
  
"Excuse me, my friends," she said, pushing back her   
chair and stepping away from the table. Une walked   
slowly down the stairs, and met Linnea upon the   
grass.  
  
"Private party, cousin Lin," Mariemaia said, as she   
and David approached. "And I don't believe you were   
invited."  
  
"Hello, dear," Linnea said with a smile. "I can see   
your manners haven't improved since our last meeting.   
If your father were here-"  
  
"-He'd toss you out on your ass for trespassing,"   
Mariemaia said.  
  
Une did her best not to sigh. Mariemaia's social   
skills, while amusing, were significantly less than   
perfect, and her daughter seemed to enjoy keeping   
them that way. Perhaps she had simply seen too much   
in her short life, been hurt too often by people very   
much like Linnea, to afford them any kindness. And   
certainly she did not suffer fools gladly, fools such   
as Linnea pretended to be- or was.  
  
"It's been /ten years/, Linnea," Une said at last. "I   
had hoped we'd seen the last of you."  
  
"Oh, not at all, my dear. Not at all. In fact..."   
Linnea removed a folded paper from her jacket's   
pocket, and handed it ceremoniously to Une. "I've   
come for the twins."  
  
Une's eyes widened in horror as she scanned the   
document in her hands, which ordered Terra and Lucian   
given into the custody of Linnea and the other   
Khushrenada cousins. "Over my dead body," she said   
with quiet steel in her voice. "Mariemaia, David,   
would you go see to the twins, please? Take them   
inside."  
  
"Of course," said David. "Terra, Lucian, come with   
us, okay?"  
  
"Why?" Lucian asked curiously.  
  
"Inside," Mariemaia told them. "I'll explain later.   
Lewis, Elena, the rest of you, too."  
  
"I will not leave without them," Linnea said flatly,   
as Mariemaia and David gathered the children and   
herded them into the house.  
  
"Then I suppose you'll be staying a while," Une said,   
waving a hand towards her friends upstairs. "Dorothy,   
would you be so kind as to get ahold of my lawyer,   
please?" Dorothy nodded, and raced inside. Une then   
returned her attention to Linnea. "You will not take   
them from me," she told the other woman. "I don't   
care what it costs me, in time or money or anything   
else. I will /die/ before you take them from me. They   
are my children, and you cannot take them away."  
  
"Watch me try."  
  
Une took a step towards her, her eyes dark with   
anger. "You might have made a case for claiming   
custody of Mariemaia- though I'd have fought you just   
as hard on that -but on what grounds could you   
possibly think to take Terra and Lucian?"  
  
"The fact that you are /not/ my cousin's wife, and it   
is beyond possible to prove the twins are his   
children."  
  
Une raised an eyebrow at that. "If they are not   
Treize's children, they would have no relation to you   
at all, and you would therefore have no grounds for   
seeking custody. Try again."  
  
"He never intended for you to take advantage of the   
genetic bank, I know that for certain."  
  
"You know nothing," Une told her.  
  
"Show me proof, then. Show me proof, and I will leave   
you in peace."  
  
Une's heart sank. All they had- or once had -was the   
letter, which had been destroyed before the twins   
were born. A copy might exist somewhere, but a copy   
would not satisfy Linnea. She would want the original   
or nothing. The letter could not help her then, not   
now.  
  
"I will find you proof, /Miss/ Khushrenada," Une   
said, her use of the name clearly intended as an   
insult. "I will find a way to prove what you ask- or   
to prove that you are /not/ who you say you are. In   
either case I will keep my children, and you will   
learn there is a price to be paid for lying to me."  
  
"Gods, you're arrogant," Linnea said. She might have   
gone on, but Heero, Duo, Trowa, Quatre, and the other   
Preventers were marching down the stairs, each having   
retrieved his or her uniform jacket.  
  
"Anything we can do for you, boss lady?" Duo asked   
with an impish grin.  
  
"Yes, if you don't mind terribly," Une replied.   
"Kindly show Miss Linnea off my property."  
  
"I'll show her off, alright," Heero could be heard to   
mutter. Trowa nodded his agreement, and Une made a   
note to talk to the two of them before they did   
something...irrevocable.  
  
"This won't be your property much longer, either,"   
Linnea said all too sweetly. "I'll have it all- the   
lands, the fortune, /everything/, even your precious   
Epyon. You will be homeless, poor- in short, back   
where you started from before you managed to seduce   
my cousin-"  
  
Une was never sure which of them had thrown the   
punch; Heero seemed most likely, though he wouldn't   
have stopped there, but from the way Catherine smiled   
down from the balcony, she suspected Trowa. Certainly   
it was Trowa who hauled her back up to her feet, none   
too gently, and looked her straight in the eye as he   
spoke. "Councilor," he said quietly, "I think it's   
time for you to leave. Now."  
  
"You all admire her so, don't you?" Linnea asked   
softly. "The lovely, brave and brilliant Lady Une.   
She saved you all, didn't she, from fates worse than   
death? She came to your rescues, as she came to   
Mariemaia's, and of course she is the perfect mother   
to the twins, with none better existing anywhere.   
She's a saint, isn't she? Perfect. Flawless."  
  
"I wouldn't go that far," Duo said, "but you're not   
exactly an angel, either, lady. Come on. Trowa's   
right, it's time for you to go. Excuse us, Lady Une."  
  
Before they escorted Linnea away, Lady Une caught her   
eye and spoke very softly. "Why do you hate me so?"  
  
"Because I loved him," was Linnea's equally soft   
reply, "and he never, ever wanted me."  
  
Une stood in stunned silence as the Preventers walked   
Linnea out of her line of sight.  
  
* * *  
  
"That /bitch/!"  
  
"Mariemaia, honey, calm down..." David Ling tried his   
best to sooth her, but there was no reasoning with   
Mariemaia when she was like this, as he knew all too   
well.  
  
"No way," Mariemaia said, "not while /that woman/ is   
out there, acting like she's got some Gods-given   
right to take the twins away from Mother... Who the   
hell does she think she is?"  
  
"Your father's cousin?" David asked.  
  
"The hell she is. I'd never heard of her until she   
started pestering Mother about the twins and I." She   
sighed, kneeled beside the children, and drew Terra   
into her arms. "I'm sorry for all the screaming, you   
guys. It just makes me so damned angry..."  
  
"We know," both twins and David said together.  
  
Dorothy stepped into the room, a smile upon her face.   
"I just got off the phone with your mother's lawyer.   
Who doesn't seem to think Linnea has a leg to stand   
on. And as far as I can remember, I'm the only female   
cousin your father had, Mariemaia. Most of the family   
died during the initial outbreak of the wars."  
  
"Like a lot of people's did," David said. "That's   
interesting, though, that you mention that..."  
  
Mariemaia looked at him, then back at Dorothy. "Come   
by my apartment later, you two," she said. "I think   
we should talk." /And not in front of the kids,/ she   
thought, but did not say. The children were all very   
smart, and particularly with all of them present,   
they were bound to know something was up, but she   
wasn't about to lay out her plans for them to so   
easily overhear. Her mother might never forgive her   
if she involved the twins in this, and Mariemaia had   
little desire to, anyway.  
  
"Is it safe for us to go back outside now?" Elena   
asked.  
  
Dorothy nodded. "Cath says Linnea's gone. She got a   
Preventer escort off the property."  
  
"Goody!" Elena exclaimed, as she tugged at Terra's   
arm. "C'mon!"  
  
* * *  
  
As soon as Linnea had gone, Une begged the others'   
pardon, and dashed into the house, into her room. She   
did not slam the door, but closed it softly, and only   
then threw herself down onto the bed with a deep   
sigh.  
  
Upon her table, which she gazed up at from where she   
lay, was the photograph of Treize she had kept all   
these years, and the rose he'd left beside her ten   
years ago. That rose, rather strangely, had not aged,   
nor had it wilted and died as she had expected it to.   
Instead it remained as fresh and new as the night he   
had given it to her.  
  
"Oh, Treize," she said quietly, "who is this woman,   
and why does she torment us this way? Is there   
nothing that can be done?"  
  
Angrily, she threw herself to her feet again, and   
began to pace about the room. "She won't take the   
twins away from me, she /won't/! I don't know how I   
will fight her, love, but I'm damned well going to   
try. Not only are they all I have left of you, all   
three of these children, but I love them. Which dear,   
beloved cousin Linnea most certainly does not..."  
  
The sound of muffled voices out in the hall startled   
her out of her reverie.  
  
"Is she in there?" That was Lucian.  
  
"Yes," replied Terra. "Talking to Father, I think."  
  
"She does that," Mariemaia told them. "She- misses   
him, a lot." Clearly this was hard for Mariemaia,   
who'd never been all that good at dealing with her   
feelings, to speak of.  
  
"We miss him, too," said Terra.  
  
* * *  
  
The Place Between Worlds  
  
The world rang with the sound of breaking glass, and   
Death slowly opened his eyes, trying to find the   
source of that sound. This was his realm, and he knew   
it well, and he knew that sound held no place here.  
  
"Ghost Knight." He sighed. Yes, if any would dare   
disturb his rest, it would be /that/ one. Death   
grasped the scythe in his hand, and made for the   
River of Forgetfulness, where it seemed the sound   
originated from.  
  
And that sound, Death discovered when he stood upon   
the River's bank, was not the sound of breaking glass   
at all, but that of breaking /ice/. The River had   
frozen over, a thing which it /never/ did, and Treize   
Khushrenada stood upon the opposite bank, throwing   
stones. The ice broke as each stone struck it and   
sank into the river's chill depths.  
  
"You!" Death snarled. "You trespass!"  
  
Treize's head jerked up, and he met the specter's   
cold eyes. "Which one will it be, you bastard?" he   
answered Death's exclamation with one of his own.   
"Which one will you take? Lucian? Terra? Mariemaia?"   
And when Death did not answer, his eyes grew as   
frosted as the ice he continued to break, and he   
spoke more sharply now. "No. /Not/ her. I have told   
you a dozen, a hundred times, you /will not/ take her   
before her time!"  
  
"And what right would you have, if I chose to, to   
stop me?"  
  
"Not only the right have I, but the duty. There are   
rules which even Death is bound by."  
  
The specter settled his scythe into the snow-covered   
ground, and gave a little sigh as he leaned upon it.   
"You know I cannot answer your question. Even I do   
not know which it will be until the time comes- but I   
will say again that no one whose soul I claim comes   
to me before their time."  
  
"You- you-" And the man Death called Ghost Knight   
seemed at last to shatter, his armor gone, and he   
began to sob. To Death he looked chillingly human,   
again. "You can't- you mustn't-"  
  
Death shook his head sadly. "Lad, it is what I do. It   
is why I exist. I do not seek to be cruel, but death   
is not a kind thing."  
  
"Yes," Treize said bitterly. "I know."  
  
"My bargain with you was cruel, and I should not have   
made it."  
  
"No!" Treize was even more vehement now than he had   
been before. "It was, and yet it was not. It was my   
right to ask it. And in any case it is done. It is   
done, and the twins..." He shook his head. "Harm them   
in any way, and dead or not I will find a way-"  
  
Death held up a hand. "Hold, Ghost Knight. A moment."   
The specter vanished, and appeared again beside   
Treize, upon the opposite River bank. "Your pardon.   
We needn't shout for all those of this realm to hear.   
And there are more and more left to do so now, as the   
River seems strangely unable to serve its proper   
function."  
  
"Which," Treize said shortly, "I had nothing to do   
with."  
  
"I think you did, though you know it not," Death   
replied.  
  
"What do you mean?" Treize asked.  
  
"The bargain you and I made- it both ended, and did   
not end, with that sunrise."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"Nor do I," the specter said. "Nor do I. But I know   
this. You are both more and less than human. Not   
human enough, you would say, and yet less spirit than   
most. Able to touch the world when you will it so, in   
small ways, able to reach out and speak to those for   
whom you care- your lady, your children, and your   
friend. It was not supposed to be this way. There is   
no precedent for this."   
  
"Years ago you said to me that I alone was gifted   
with the power to touch the world of the living."  
  
"Yes," Death said. "You are the Ghost Knight, and   
that is his- or her -own power. But you do...so   
much more, that I am at a loss to explain. And   
/this/-" Death gestured to the River. "I cannot   
explain /this/, and I tell you that quite soon the   
Fates will be about with questions which I cannot   
answer."  
  
"And do you think I can?" Treize countered. "I had no   
affect on this that I can see. If I were to have   
changed the River, one should think that the change   
would have begun when it rejected me all those years   
ago."  
  
"Mm. Yes," Death agreed, "and while it did seem   
different after that, I'd expected it to be so. It   
has rejected no one in the past."  
  
Treize smiled wryly. "I am not any ordinary man. Nor   
was I in life."  
  
Death shook his head. "In any case, this must be set   
to rights again."  
  
"Perhaps it /has/ been." Treize seemed to look off   
into the distance, as if he were listening to words   
spoken from very far away. "Excuse me. I am   
summoned."  
  
And as he turned and faded into mist, Death called   
after him. "You cannot help them, Ghost Knight!"  
  
"Yet I have done so before. And you are unable to   
explain that. I cannot either, but it is so. And what   
I /can/ do, I shall."  
  
* * *  
  
Mariemaia stood before her father's gravestone. She   
had not come here in years, not since her mother had   
decided the twins were old enough to visit, and she   
had accompanied them then. She had found herself   
overwhelmed by grief, even after all these years, and   
had not returned since. But now...  
  
"Father," she said softly. "I know there are those   
who think Mother's lost her mind. But I know that she   
hasn't. I saw you too, that day, holding Lucian. If   
you could do that... Please, Father. Linnea is trying   
to take the twins away from Mother; she may   
succeeded. If she loses the twins, I don't know..."   
Mariemaia shook her head. "She is still the strong   
woman you knew, but within her is a weakness now.   
That weakness is us, us three, myself, Lucian, Terra.   
I am out of Linnea's reach now, but the twins aren't.   
Father, you must..."  
  
/I will do what I can, my child./ Her father appeared   
before her then, the mirror image of the photograph   
which still adorned her mother's dressing table, down   
to the blue on white of his uniform and the wisp of   
ginger hair brushing his forehead.  
  
Mariemaia nodded. "We'll be doing our best, too,   
but..." She sighed again. "Heero, Duo, /and/ Trowa   
have each approached me, separately, with no idea the   
others had done so, and made it known that they would   
be more than willing to see to it Linnea doesn't live   
to make trouble for anyone else. But I couldn't let   
any of them do that. It's wrong. Although if she   
harms one hair on either of the twins, they'll all   
have to wait in line."  
  
/I know you've been told your attitude is less than   
ideal, Mariemaia,/ Treize said, /but I would have you   
know that I am proud of you, as you are. You make me   
proud, every single day./  
  
"Thank you, Father," she said, brushing a tear from   
her eye. "I..." She shook her head. "Anyway. There's   
something funny about Linnea, and David and I are   
going to find out what it is. Mother doesn't know,   
and we're going to keep it that way."  
  
/Mariemaia-/  
  
"If we get into trouble, we'll call in cousin   
Dorothy, or Aunt Sally. But /not/ Mother."  
  
/I understand. Your mother... There are days I wonder   
if I truly did her any favors when I came to her that   
night./  
  
"Don't say things like that, Father. There are days   
when I /know/ the only thing keeping her sane is the   
fact she knows you're out there somewhere, that   
something of the spirit survives death, and that   
she'll see you again."  
  
The ghost before her nodded at her, and they shared a   
moment of silent rapport, unspoken understanding,   
father to daughter. A promise was made, silent but   
clear, that they would, each in their own way, look   
after the woman they both loved. They would protect   
her, but... There was a depth of sadness in her   
father's eyes which made Mariemaia pause, and she   
felt compelled to speak.  
  
"What is it?" she asked.  
  
/I told your mother something I should not have- that   
there is great sorrow in her life yet to come. She   
may think that this is that sorrow. I do not want you   
to tell her differently, but there is worse to come./  
  
"You know this for a fact."  
  
/I am the Ghost Knight, dear one. Death's Companion.   
I know- too much./ Treize closed his eyes. /Keep   
safe, Mariemaia./  
  
"Where-" Her voice caught in her throat, and she had   
to fight past that catch. "Where shall I look for   
you, if- if I need you?"  
  
/Call me, Mariemaia. I will hear./ And then he was   
gone, as suddenly as he had appeared, and she was   
once again alone in the graveyard.  
  
* * *  
  
Terra stepped off the elevator and strolled down the   
hall towards her mother's office. Lady Une's co-  
workers smiled and waved as she passed them, clearly   
recognizing the slim, dark-haired girl. She waved   
back, but most of her attention was focused on other   
things.  
  
When she reached her mother's office, she waited   
patiently for Dorothy to finish what she was doing   
before clearing her throat.  
  
"Hi, Terra," Dorothy said. "What can I do for you?"  
  
"Is my mother in?" Terra asked.  
  
"Unfortunately not. She had to go to a meeting out on   
L2. She said to tell you guys that depending on how   
late it gets, she may stay over at the Maxwells', and   
come home tomorrow morning. If that's the case, Cath   
and I will come over and stay with you and Lucian."  
  
"Okay," said Terra. "Do you know what the meeting was   
about?"  
  
"The Preventers' budget, probably."  
  
"Huh," said Terra. "Okay."  
  
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Dorothy asked.   
"I'm not your mother, but I have access to a lot of   
the same resources. And, if push comes to shove, Lady   
Une's signature stamp."  
  
Terra smiled. "I don't know. Maybe. Have you got a   
minute?"  
  
"Sure," Dorothy replied. She waved over one of the   
ubiquitous staffers. "Could you watch the phones for   
a second, Jim? Thanks."  
  
Dorothy led the way into Lady Une's office, and   
closed the door behind Terra. "So. What's on your   
mind, kiddo?"  
  
"I was wondering what would happen to us- to Lucian   
and I- if something happened to Mama?"  
  
Dorothy laughed softly. "What a question! Terra, your   
mother's fine. Really. She's in perfect health-"  
  
"I know," Terra said. "But what would happen?"  
  
"I'd take care of you," Dorothy said without   
hesitation. "Or your sister could, once she turned   
eighteen. We're your only living relatives, kiddo,   
not counting the extended family- which means crap to   
the courts."  
  
"You're sure?" Terra asked. "What about cousin   
Linnea?"  
  
"That woman," Dorothy said. She shook her head. "I   
don't know who or what she is, Terra, but she   
certainly hasn't got anyone's best interests at heart   
except her own, and if she's related to us, I'll eat   
your mother's Gundam."  
  
* * *  
  
The sound of tapping keys was the only noise to be   
heard in the city apartment David Ling shared with   
his widower father. Mariemaia sat at David's desk,   
her hands upon the keyboard of her laptop, her eyes   
upon the screen.  
  
David rested his hands on her shoulders and began to   
massage the kinks away. "Come on, Mari. You've been   
at this for hours. The data you're looking for will   
still be there in a couple hours. Take a break, get   
out of that chair. I don't know about you, but I'm   
starving."  
  
She turned around to regard him with a shy smile.   
"Honestly. All you ever think about is food." David   
tugged on a lock of her long red hair, coaxing her   
away from the laptop with a series of quick kisses   
and even quicker retreats. "Alright, tease. I'll take   
a break. I swear, though, there's something really   
weird going on here. And it all comes back to Linnea,   
whoever the hell she is."  
  
Mariemaia followed David into the kitchen, where he   
began fixing up sandwiches from leftovers. "Maybe   
we're going about this the wrong way," David said,   
pausing with the mustard in hand.  
  
"How do you mean?" Mariemaia asked.  
  
"Well, we've been assuming that while we /know/ she's   
lied about other things, the one crucial fact about   
her that we have- her name -is for real."  
  
"Are you saying it isn't?" Mariemaia asked.  
  
"I don't know," David replied. "I'm just saying, why   
don't we try working from the assumption that it   
/isn't,/ and see what we turn up. See if someone   
vanished, maybe 'dead', maybe not, about the same   
time Linnea Khushrenada came on the scene."  
  
"It's not a bad idea," Mariemaia said, her thoughts   
already drifting back to the computer, and the new   
angle from which they'd tackle the search now...  
  
She returned to reality to find David staring at her,   
his sandwich untouched before him. "What?" Mariemaia   
asked.  
  
"You know, my dad won't be home until the end of the   
week..."  
  
Mariemaia shook her head and laughed. "David...!"  
  
"What? It's just an idea. And certainly more   
entertaining than pouring over old records and   
obsessing over Linnea," David replied.  
  
"You may have a point there. Maybe," Mariemaia added   
with an upraised finger. "Now why don't you shut up   
and eat, before I'm stuck hearing about how I seduced   
you into ignoring your dinner?"  
  
* * *  
  
Linnea slid into the booth across from Preventer   
Nichol, noting with disdain the thin disguise he   
wore. As if that would stand in the way of anyone who   
might have recognized him. The idea was ludicrous,   
really. She'd have had more respect for him if he   
hadn't bothered to try and disguise his appearance at   
all.  
  
"So," she said. "I'm told you'd like to help me."  
  
"I'd like us to help each other," Nichol replied.   
"There is something we each want, and our desires   
don't conflict with one another. Quite the contrary-   
I can have what I want, as can you, and we both walk   
away happy."  
  
"Interesting," said Linnea. "And what, pray tell, do   
you think I want?"  
  
"Terra Khushrenada."  
  
"Only Terra?" Linnea asked.  
  
"Yes. The boy, Lucian, he's too outspoken for you.   
He's got too much of his father's fire. There'd be no   
reasoning with that one, you'd never get anywhere.   
Mariemaia's the same way- it's part of the reason you   
could make a case for at least /one/ of the twins not   
being his. I don't see any of Treize in Terra. She's   
quiet, complacent. You could tell her to do anything,   
and she probably wouldn't question it. You can't tell   
me a child of /his/ blood with those qualities   
doesn't appeal to you."  
  
"I'm confused," said Linnea. "Do you believe both   
twins are the children of Treize, or that neither of   
them is?"  
  
"It doesn't matter what I believe. Do you want the   
girl or not?"  
  
"Yes," said Linnea. "What do /you/ want, Mister   
Nichol?"  
  
Quietly, he told her. Linnea considered for a moment,   
and then she nodded. "Agreed." 


	8. Ties Binding

Title: Ghost Knight 8/?  
Author: Anne Khushrenada  
Disclaimer: Standard. Gundam Wing belongs to other   
people.  
  
Lucian Khushrenada set his history text aside with a   
sigh. The book was quite interesting, but it wasn't   
the same without Terra there reading with him. His   
sister had gone off to visit a historic battlefield   
with their summer tutor, a man employed through July   
and August because the twins could only tolerate   
about a month's worth of sheer vacation time before   
boredom, and their voracious appetite for knowledge   
began to overwhelm them. And Lucian had been looking   
forward to joining them, but he'd woken that morning   
absolutely exhausted, despite having slept well, and   
when Terra had described him as 'looking like death   
warmed over', when his mother had gotten that look   
that said she didn't want to disappoint him but was   
going to have to, he'd known he wasn't going.  
  
A knock upon his bedroom door announced Alice   
McKenzie, recruited by his mother to keep an eye upon   
him. Only when she'd secured Alice's promise to call   
her if Lucian felt worse did Lady Une go into work.   
If he had to have someone hovering over him, he'd   
rather it was Alice. Anyone else, even Aunt Lucrezia   
or Uncle Milliardo, would have taken his books away.  
  
"How're you feeling, Lucian?" Alice asked.  
  
"Fine, thanks," the boy replied, brushing a strand of   
ginger hair out of his eye. He'd seen enough of the   
old family albums to know he looked a lot like his   
father had at his age.  
  
Alice apparently had the same thought, for she smiled   
and reached out to brush her fingers against the gilt   
framed image of his father upon the wall. "You look a   
lot like him," she said. "I guess everybody tells you   
that."  
  
"Yeah." Lucian paused. "Is that why Mama looks so sad   
sometimes, when she looks at me?"  
  
Alice nodded slowly. "I think so. She really loved   
your father- she never talked about it, but it was   
pretty obvious, at least to me. I think she regrets-   
well, a lot of things." She shrugged, searching for a   
way to change the subject. "What're you reading?"  
  
"Nothing. Just a dumb old history book." Lucian   
coughed, a sound that seemed to come from deep in his   
chest. "I guess Terra's not back yet."  
  
"Nope," Alice said. "She really didn't want to go   
without you, you know."  
  
"I know," Lucian said. "But just 'cause I've got this   
stupid cold, doesn't mean she should skip out on   
this." He shrugged. "Might be better if I can go   
visit it by myself someday, anyway. Ter says we have   
to understand how horrible the war really was, to   
understand the way it hurt people. I don't think I   
want to know that much more about it, you know? The   
war killed my father, and it broke Mama's heart. Let   
alone what happened to Mariemaia. Isn't that enough   
for anybody to know?"  
  
"I think so," Alice said. She handed him a tissue.   
"Cough again, if you can, Lucian."  
  
"Why?" he asked suspiciously.  
  
"'Cause."  
  
He brought the tissue to his lips and coughed,   
doubling over, small body shaking with a series of   
coughs that seemed they might never stop.  
  
Before he'd even had a moment to catch his breath,   
Alice was reaching for the telephone. "Please tell me   
you're not calling Mama," Lucian said. "She'll come   
straight home, and I'm /fine/..."  
  
"No," Alice told him. "I'm calling Sally."  
  
"Aw, man. Why?"  
  
Alice held up a hand, then spoke into the phone.   
"Yes, you can take a message. Please tell Dr. Chang   
that Alice McKenzie called, regarding Lucian. I'd   
like her to take a look at him today if she can. If   
not- Yes, Lady Une's son. Thank you." She set the   
phone aside. "My first year at the Lake Victoria   
Academy, one of my classmates had a cough like that.   
He was stubborn, like you, and didn't want to see   
anybody about it. By the time we got him to admit he   
was sick, he looked /terrible/ and we all thought he   
was dying. We weren't far wrong, either- he had   
pnemonia."  
  
"Great," said Lucian.  
  
* * *  
  
Sally put her stethoscope aside and nodded. "Looks   
like you called it right, Alice. If you can have Lady   
Une meet us at the hospital, I'll go ahead and take   
him in-"  
  
"Aw, /man./ Aunt Sally, I'm /fine./ I just don't feel   
very good..."  
  
"How long have you 'not felt very good'?" Sally asked   
with narrowed eyes.  
  
"Uh...A few days." Sally's expression did not change.   
"Maybe a week. Okay, /two/ weeks, but I didn't want   
Mama to worry. Do I really have to go to the   
hospital?"  
  
"You do now," Sally told him. "If you'd said   
something a few weeks ago, we might have caught this   
before it went into pneumonia, and you'd be getting   
better already. Alice-"  
  
"I'll call her," Alice said.  
  
* * *  
  
Lady Une tried to hide her annoyance as she passed   
Nichol in the hospital waiting room. Uniform jacket   
draped over one arm, she'd come as soon as Alice had   
called her, and at just that moment, her primary   
concern was Lucian. The /last/ thing she wanted to   
deal with was Nichol.  
  
"Lady Une- I heard your son was sick. Is he alright?"   
The concern dripping from the man's voice just about   
made her ill.  
  
"You've clearly been here longer than I, perhaps you   
can tell me." Nichol said nothing. "No? Excuse me,   
then. I'd like to see Lucian now."  
  
Shaking her head, Une walked away. After she had   
gone, Milliardo Peacecraft faded out of the shadows   
near the door at the opposite end of the room.  
  
"I hope she's okay," Nichol said with a sigh. "She   
was a little short with me."  
  
Milliardo shook his head. "Nichol- Might I offer you   
a word of advice?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Ease up on Lady Une. Don't expect so much of her.   
You're not going to get it, but you /will/ get a bit   
of pain for your troubles if you're not careful."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Nichol asked. "You   
don't really think she'll hurt me, do you?"  
  
"You have kids, Nichol?" Of course he knew the other   
man didn't; that wasn't the point. When Nichol shook   
his head, Milliardo went on. "When your kids are   
hurt, or sick, they are your /first/ concern.   
Sometimes your only one."  
  
"I see." Without another word, Nichol turned and left   
the room.   
  
Alice stepped into the room through the door Lady Une   
had last used, casting a quick glance about. "Is he   
gone?"  
  
Milliardo laughed softly. "For now. How's Lucian?"  
  
"Should be fine, Sally says. He just needs to stay   
here and rest for a few days- which thrills him to no   
end, let me tell you. Mostly he thinks we're fussing   
over nothing..."  
  
Milliardo shook his head. "Treize was like that, too.   
Perfectly fine even when he was just about to pass   
out."  
  
"Man liked his drink, didn't he?" Alice asked   
quietly.  
  
"Not as much as you think. He couldn't, really- not   
near as much as he wanted to. Duke Lucian, the   
original, was an alcoholic." Milliardo paused. "Most   
people don't know that."  
  
Alice shrugged. "Neither do I." She sighed, wondering   
if Milliardo had any idea just how much she 'didn't   
know' about Treize Khushrenada and his family, both   
past and present. "I feel kinda bad, doing this to   
Lucian. Poor kid looks so miserable."  
  
"He needs to be here, Sally was quite firm on that   
point. You caught it?"  
  
"I guess I did."  
  
Milliardo said nothing for a few long moments. Then,   
"Walker?"  
  
"Yeah. That first year at Victoria, some   
upperclassman dared him to go run around the campus   
in the pouring rain- in gym shorts and nothing else,   
might I add -and he did it." She shook her head.   
"Walker was too much of a good sport. Damned fool, of   
course he got sick..."   
  
He nodded, and briefly squeezed her shoulder. "Alice,   
I- know you two were close. I'm...sorry, for what-"  
  
She shook her head. "No, don't. Walker was truly   
dedicated to you. He /believed/ in you, it was his   
choice to risk his life for you, and if I denied him   
his right to do that... He wouldn't have been   
/Walker/. Even though it got him killed, I admired   
that loyalty."  
  
"I always wondered if I'd ever live up to it."  
  
"Walker thought you did. So did Lady Une- she didn't   
like you, but she had to respect you for your   
skills."  
  
"Treize said once he found that rather amusing. He'd   
finally realized she was /jealous/- of me, can you   
imagine?"  
  
Alice could, but she wasn't about to say so. Even   
now, she felt Lady Une's secrets were her own- even   
if they weren't really secrets anymore.  
  
"Daddy!"  
  
Elena's cry as she launched herself across the room   
and into her father's arms could not have done better   
to shatter the sad and solemn mood of Alice and   
Milliardo. He caught her and held her tight, brushing   
back her long platinum blonde hair.  
  
"How's my girl?" he asked. "Hmm?"  
  
"Mariemaia said Lucian was sick. She's bringing Terra   
from her field trip. Daddy, is Lucian going to be   
okay?" Elena's blue eyes clearly showed her concern   
for the boy. Anyone who did not know the children   
would have thought her own brother had fallen ill,   
instead of that of her best friend. But particularly   
among the younger Peacecrafts and Khushrenadas, there   
was very little difference.  
  
"Yeah, baby. He'll be fine. Where's your brother?"   
Milliardo asked. Six-year-old Galen was very likely   
to get into trouble if someone didn't keep an eye on   
him, and the sight of Elena, alone, was probably not   
a good omen.  
  
"Playing with the buttons on the elevator. Mama said   
to tell you she'll be up as soon as she catches   
/your/ son. And, there was something else, she   
sounded kind of mad when she said it- Something about   
'damned Peacecrafts'. What'd she mean by that?"  
  
"Never mind," Milliardo said quickly. He shook his   
head, muttering. "Lucrezia, please, God, they don't   
need to pick up any more words..."  
  
Elena tugged on his sleeve, and he returned his   
attention to her. "Yes?"  
  
"That lady's downstairs in the lobby," Elena said.  
  
"What lady, honey?"  
  
"The lady who showed up at Aunt Une's summer party,   
the one you guys took away."  
  
Milliardo and Alice traded gazes over Elena's pale   
head. "I wouldn't worry about her, sweetheart," he   
told his daughter.  
  
"She's looking for Terra," Elena said. "I know she   
is."  
  
"Well, she can look all she wants to," Alice told   
her. "Terra's not here. When she gets here, she'll be   
with Mariemaia. And I don't think that lady likes   
Terra's big sister very much."  
  
Elena giggled. "I don't think she does either. Do you   
think I could go say hi to Lucian?"  
  
"Sure, honey," Milliardo said, setting her down. "I   
bet he'd like that. He's been dealing with adults all   
day."  
  
As they exited the room, he looked back at Alice, who   
nodded slowly. She would take care of it. If Linnea   
was still there, after being spotted by Elena, if she   
was dumb enough to stick around and make trouble,   
Alice would deal with it.  
  
* * *  
  
Lady Une stood in the room's doorway, looking in on   
Lucian. Despite her son's protests that he was just   
fine, thank you, he hardly looked well. Une sighed   
and shook her head. Stepping away from the door, she   
met Milliardo and Elena as they came down the hall.  
  
"Auntie Une?" asked the little girl.  
  
Une smiled. "Yes, Elena?"  
  
"How's Lucian?"  
  
"He's sleeping right now, but he'll be alright. He   
just needs to rest."  
  
Elena nodded. "He hasn't felt good for a while. We   
tried to tell him he needed to tell you he was sick,   
but you know Lucian."  
  
Une smiled again and nodded. "As stubborn as his   
father," she said, rather fondly. "Speaking of   
Terra...?"  
  
"Mariemaia's got her," Milliardo said. He turned to   
his daughter. "Sweetheart, would you go and wait for   
your mother, please?"  
  
Elena pouted at him, but nodded and skipped off back   
towards the waiting room.  
  
Une raised an eyebrow curiously. "Something the   
matter?" she asked.  
  
"I don't know. Elena saw Linnea downstairs." Une   
started to turn for the bank of elevators, but   
Milliardo caught her arm. "Alice is...dealing with   
it. And that's not all. Nichol-"  
  
"I know," Une said with a deep sigh. "He won't take   
no for an answer."  
  
"Lady Une, I know you're perfectly capable of taking   
care of yourself, but-"  
  
"If I need help, I know where to reach you." She   
turned back towards the waiting room. "Where's that   
son of yours?"  
  
"/Milliardo!/" came the shout from the elevators   
before he could answer Lady Une's question. Lucrezia   
Noin Peacecraft did not sound best pleased, by any   
means.  
  
"Thataway, one should think," he replied. "Coming!"  
  
* * *  
  
The Place Between Worlds  
Well of Souls  
  
Treize tossed a stone into the pool, and it sent   
ripples out to the edges of the water, originating   
from the point it had hit- where Nichol's head had   
been only a moment ago.  
  
Death chuckled softly behind him. "If you truly mean   
to deal with that one in any way, you're capable of   
causing greater harm than that."  
  
"I'm far more concerned about Linnea, actually. My   
girls can certainly deal with /that/ one." Treize   
directed a scowl at Nichol's retreating back.   
"Although..."  
  
"He challenges you," Death said quietly. "He tries to   
lay claim to what is yours- Apparently he does not   
know as well as I do how little power even I have to   
so much as give pause to your devotion to them. All   
of them, but especially her."  
  
"Perhaps if I have the time to spare, he will learn   
otherwise."  
  
Death smiled, a sight that did not disturb Treize   
near as much as it once had. "You see now why I chose   
you, Treize. Come."  
  
Treize rose to his feet and nodded. "What do you need   
of me?"  
  
"I need," Death said, "for you to undo whatever you   
have done to the River."  
  
"And once again I tell you that I cannot. I don't   
know what, if anything, I /did/."  
  
Death sighed. "Very well. Since you still protest   
your innocence in those matters, perhaps you can aid   
me in gathering up the newly-departed who should be   
making the journey through the River, before they   
intrude further upon our realm."  
  
Treize smiled; that was the first time the specter   
had referred to the Place Between Worlds as theirs,   
rather than his alone. "I suppose I can manage that,"   
he said at last. "I was something of a commander of   
men in my day."  
  
As they approached the River, Death and his Ghost   
Knight, Treize saw to his shock that Death had not   
been exaggerating their problem in the slightest.   
Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of souls drifted about   
the River's bank, most studying the snow at their   
feet and the frozen waters before them with varying   
degrees of surprise and confusion.  
  
And not all of these were newly dead, either. From   
amidst their ranks Treize caught sight of an old OZ   
uniform, and a pale hand waving an OZ cap through the   
air. When the crowd chanced to part enough for him to   
get a good look at the man's face, Treize gasped.  
  
"Walker!"  
  
The other man looked up at Treize's shout, and for a   
moment his image blinked out, only to reappear beside   
Treize and the specter of Death. Walker's ghost   
saluted smartly. "Sir."  
  
Treize, shaking his head, turned to Death. "I do not   
understand this."  
  
"Nor I," Death agreed. "I sent you on years ago,   
Walker."  
  
"Something called me back, I expect," said Walker. He   
raised an eyebrow at Treize. "Perhaps as it did for   
you. Let me guess- Lady Une?"  
  
"Alice McKenzie?" Treize countered with a smile. "You   
might as well ease up on the formality, Walker- I   
believe OZ is as dead as I am."  
  
Death sighed. "Gentlemen, if I may interrupt this   
touching reunion..."  
  
"Yes, yes," Treize muttered. "Excuse me, Walker. This   
won't take but a minute." Sweeping his uniform cape   
back over his shoulder, Treize strode towards the   
River's shore and the front of the milling crowd of   
spirits. He leapt up onto an ice-coated tree stump,   
struck a pose, and raised his hands for silence.  
  
"Showoff," Walker muttered.  
  
Death laughed softly. "Yes. I suppose he is. Watch,   
though."  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen, if I may..."  
  
Gasps of "Treize Khushrenada!" filled the air for a   
moment; Treize smiled. Immediately thereafter there   
was silence, though.  
  
"I see my reputation precedes me. Good. Perhaps   
that'll make this a bit easier. Ladies and gentlemen,   
as you can see we have something of an issue at hand   
here. My good friend Lord Death- would you stand up,   
please, old friend? Thank you. My good friend Lord   
Death and I are currently at work upon the problem;   
you'll know as soon as we reach a solution."  
  
Treize stepped down from the tree stump, and was   
immediately accosted by a tall man in crimson and   
black, a beret with the emblem of the Mariemaia Army   
perched atop his head.   
  
"Still as pretentious as ever, Treize," Dekim Barton   
snarled. "You aren't any better than the rest of us,   
now."  
  
"Really," Treize said. "Perhaps you're right. Would   
you care to find out?" His fingers loosely grasped   
the rapier he wore at his side, and Dekim shot him a   
questioning look. "There are worse fates than death,   
you know. Your pardon," he added with a mocking bow,   
"I am summoned."  
  
Treize vanished from Barton's immediate view, to   
reappear near Death and the ghost of Officer Walker.  
  
"Oh, gee," said Walker with a feral grin. "Somebody   
nailed Old Man Barton. What a loss."  
  
"I believe he was killed by one of his own, too,"   
Treize said rather musingly.  
  
"Somehow I'm not surprised," Walker replied. "Listen,   
sir- Treize -is there someplace we can talk?"  
  
Treize looked to Death, who nodded. "The Well of   
Souls should be quiet enough," Treize said. "I don't   
believe anyone save ourselves cares for the affairs   
of the living anymore."  
  
"Selfish bastards, aren't they?" Walker muttered.   
"Alright. I'll see you there."  
  
* * *  
  
"In a way," Walker said, seating himself upon a rock   
beside the Well, "I /am/ here because of Alice. You   
guessed rightly on that."  
  
Nodding, Treize took a seat near the other man. "I   
must tell you, I think, that you are hardly the   
oddest thing I've seen since my death, but you do   
rank fairly high upon the list."  
  
Walker laughed quietly. "That's nice to know, I   
think."  
  
"But you seem troubled, Walker. What is it? You said   
in a /way/ it was Alice who'd called you back. What   
do you mean by that?"  
  
"Well, it's Alice's connection, through Lady Une, to   
you, that began it, really. It all comes back to you,   
one way or another. Because of what you are. And even   
Death doesn't understand that entirely." Walker   
shrugged. "Neither do I, but what I do know is that   
they're in danger, all of them- your children, Lady   
Une, Alice..."  
  
"Linnea," Treize said under his breath. "/Damn/ that   
woman."  
  
"It isn't just her, I'm afraid. I've been here-   
wherever here is -a while longer than you. No one   
pays the sort of attention they do the Ghost Knight,   
to a simple departed soul, and so I've seen a lot you   
might not have. Death and his Ghost Knight are not   
the only powers that exist here."  
  
"I find I don't like what you're implying, Walker,"   
Treize said with a sigh.  
  
"I like it even less," Walker replied. "It's not like   
the living might think- most of them anyway. It's not   
heaven or hell, but there's good and evil here, more   
defined than in the world of the living."  
  
"I understand," Treize said. "There are forces that   
oppose us even now, are there not?"  
  
"We have powerful enemies, my friend- ones who will   
hurt the ones we love just because they can."  
  
Treize gestured about them, to the snow-covered   
Place, to the frozen River beyond. "Did they do   
this?"  
  
"It's possible," Walker replied. "/You/ could have   
done it, from what I've heard, but you say you did   
not, and you've no reason to lie. Besides, anyone   
with any sense would have frozen the River /before/   
they had to go through it. Although I have a feeling   
that soon enough you are going to wish you did."  
  
"That sounds terribly ominous, Walker."  
  
"I'm afraid it is." 


	9. Betrayed

Ghost Knight  
Chapter 9  
by Anne Khushrenada/Christine Anderson   
  
Mariemaia smiled at Loren Grant, Terra and Lucian's   
summer tutor, a hand upraised in greeting as she   
approached him. He smiled and waved back, then bent   
his head to that of the dark-haired girl standing   
beside him, speaking too softly for Mariemaia to   
hear.  
  
She approached them quickly, though, and Terra could   
see from her elder sister's expression that something   
was wrong.  
  
"What is it?" she asked.  
  
"Lucian has pneumonia," Mariemaia replied.  
  
Terra sighed. "I /tried/ to tell him- but he wouldn't   
listen to me, or Elena, either. Just said he'd be   
okay, and made me swear I wouldn't tell Mama."  
  
"She knows now," Mariemaia replied, "and she's not   
happy..."  
  
"I'll bet." Terra turned to Grant. "I should probably   
go see my brother," she said. "If you don't mind-?"  
  
"No, of course not, Terra. I hope he feels better   
soon."  
  
"Thanks, Loren," Mariemaia replied. "You don't have   
an assignment for him, by chance, do you? He's going   
to get bored if we have to keep him in the hospital   
long enough, and, though I do love my little brother,   
I wouldn't want to inflict a bored Lucian on   
anybody..."  
  
Shuddering in mock horror, Grant withdrew a book from   
his backpack and handed it to Mariemaia. "He keeps   
complaining about how dull his history book is. Tell   
him to try that- I had a hell of a time finding it,   
but it was worth the trouble."  
  
"I'm sure," Mariemaia murmured. The book Grant had   
handed her was "The Arts of War and Peace". Its   
author was Lucian Khushrenada. Her, and the twins',   
grandfather.  
  
"I never knew-" Terra started, but Mariemaia shook   
her head.  
  
"I think there are a lot of things we never knew   
about Grandfather Lucian. Come on."  
  
* * *  
  
Alice raced into the hospital lobby, her shoes   
sliding to a long stop upon the institutional tile   
floor. She peered about the room for any sight of   
silvery grey eyes or curly blonde hair, but the room   
was thankfully sans Linnea, and she breathed a sigh   
of relief.  
  
After a few moments' thought, she pulled out her cell   
phone and dialed the office. She asked Dorothy to   
send a few trustworthy Preventers over- that not   
/all/ of them were trustworthy caused her no small   
amount of pain -to casually keep an eye upon things   
in general, and Lucian in particular. She did not   
want Linnea getting upstairs and bothering him, /or/   
starting anything with Mariemaia, whom she knew would   
be returning shortly with Terra.  
  
Dorothy sent Trowa, and Alice greeted him with a   
smile and a wave.  
  
"Heero and Duo are here, too- Heero's got to drag Duo   
out of the gift shop, though, so he may be a few   
minutes yet..." This said, he saluted smartly and   
stood at attention. "Orders, Preventer McKenzie?"  
  
"Milliardo, Lucrezia, and their kids are upstairs   
with Lady Une," Alice began, speaking quietly. "Elena   
saw Linnea down here, but by the time I got here to   
check it out, she'd split. Keep an eye out for her,   
and if she shows up, find a way to get rid of her if   
you can. Otherwise, let's keep her away from Lady Une   
and the kids."  
  
Trowa nodded, and Duo and Heero arrived.  
  
"You want one of us on Nichol watch?" Duo asked.  
  
Alice sighed. "Might need both of you- one to toss   
the bucket on his head, the other to beat on it with   
a very large stick in hopes of getting through to   
him."  
  
Duo laughed. "No promises on getting through, but   
we'll do our best."  
  
"Thanks, guys." Alice paused. "Listen... Maybe I've   
hit the panic button a little prematurely here, but   
Linnea's presence here bothers me, I can't quite put   
my finger on why..."  
  
"Because she's crazy?" Duo quipped. He shook his   
head. "Nah, but seriously, Alice- trust your   
instincts. Think for a minute- Since the bombing   
before the twins were born, when Mari was little, the   
Preventers have kept good tabs on the kids, and they   
don't share that info with just anybody. /We/ hardly   
knew what was going on till Dorothy called and said   
you needed a couple people you could trust."  
  
"I'd love to know where Linnea's getting her   
information," Alice said. "I'm pretty sure Nichol got   
here by being more of a nuisance to somebody than   
we've been about the kids' security, which somebody   
really needs to get on their asses about..."  
  
"Send Wufei and Milliardo," Heero suggested. "It's   
not just about Lady Une's kids- when we were first   
getting into this and putting it all on paper, we   
meant it to be for all the Preventers' kids, and   
sending some of the other Preventer parents might   
help make everybody more clear on that."  
  
Alice made a few notes on her electronic note pad,   
nodding. "Call me if you come across anything   
interesting down here."  
  
* * *  
  
Lucian was sulking. He didn't call it that, of   
course, a Khushrenada being above such things, but   
that was exactly what he was doing, and Terra knew   
it, probably better than anyone else did, being his   
twin. She rolled her eyes before sitting down in the   
chair beside his bed, a chair her mother had vacated   
when she'd arrived, with a muttered, "Perhaps /you/   
can talk some sense into your brother, dear one- I   
certainly can't."  
  
"Go 'way, Terra," Lucian said for the tenth time.  
  
"Nope," Terra replied. "Look, Lucian- I know you're   
miserable, but must you be miserable and /bored/,   
too? It's your choice, but Mariemaia's brought you a   
book. Don't you even want to look at it?"  
  
/That/ had gotten his attention, as she'd thought it   
might. Lucian rolled over and looked at her, his eyes   
slowly coming back into focus. "Did somebody say   
'book'?"  
  
"Maybe," Terra replied. "Are you going to stop being   
stupid now?"  
  
"Define 'stupid'."  
  
Lady Une buried her face in her hands. "How could   
even that wretched woman think you not Treize's son,   
Lucian? I swear..."  
  
Alice snickered behind her hand, coughing in a failed   
attempt to cover it.   
  
"Stupid," Terra went on, "is pretending you're not   
sick for so long that you end up with pneumonia and   
land yourself in the hospital. You can stop blaming   
Aunt Alice for that, too- it's not her fault, and if   
she hadn't caught it, you- Damnit, Lucian, you could   
have /died/, did that not get through your bloody   
damned thick Khushrenada skull?"  
  
Lady Une and Alice exchanged looks, Alice knowing,   
Une slightly horrified. She would, she thought, have   
to either learn to look out for the twins before she   
started one of her late-night rantings at Treize, or   
tone down the language a bit. /Everything/ wasn't his   
fault in any case, no matter that it might seem so...  
  
"C'mon, Ter," Lucian said, "Mama's been yelling at me   
about this all day, I don't need to get it from you   
too."  
  
"You do so. Now what's it going to be?"  
  
"Alright, alright... I'll stop being stupid. Can I   
have the book?"  
  
Terra looked to her mother. "Can he?"  
  
"I suppose," Lady Une replied. "But, Lucian..."  
  
"Yes, ma'am."  
  
"I don't want to hear you swearing like that again."  
  
"But I heard you-"  
  
Une simply raised an eyebrow. "Lucian."  
  
He nodded quickly. "Yes, ma'am." Terra handed him the   
book, and he opened its cover reverently and began to   
read.  
  
* * *  
  
Mariemaia peeked in on Lucien and Terra, and, finding   
them seated close together, their heads bent over the   
book, smiled before stepping out of the doorway and   
closing the door behind her.  
  
She caught up with Lady Une at the waiting room's   
window, and they stood together for a time, looking   
out over the city. "Mom," she said quietly.  
  
Une turned. "Mariemaia."  
  
"They look pretty well settled," she said of the   
twins, "and I feel kind of useless here. If you don't   
mind, I think I'm going to head over to David's." She   
found herself about to tell Lady Une about the   
research she and David had been doing into Linnea's   
background, but quickly stopped herself from speaking   
of it. They'd all agreed- she, David, and Dorothy -  
that Une didn't need to know, not until they found   
something.  
  
"Alright," Une said. "I'll call you there if anything   
changes?"  
  
"Please," Mariemaia said.  
  
* * *  
  
Alice handed Lady Une a cup of coffee, which the   
Preventers' leader took with a smile.  
  
"Thanks, Alice."  
  
"No problem," the blonde said. "Lady Une, I think-"   
Before she could go on, her cell phone began to ring,   
and she snatched it off her belt. "McKenzie." She   
listened for a moment, swore under her breath, and   
issued quick orders. "She's right here, hang on a   
sec." Alice looked up at Lady Une. "I've got O'Brien   
from the city police on the line. Somebody fire-  
bombed their records storage building. They've got   
confiscated explosives next door, and they need as   
many hands as they can get to help."  
  
Une nodded quickly. "Who've you got covering   
downstairs?"  
  
"Trowa, Heero, and Duo."  
  
"You and I will go, and we'll take Heero and Duo with   
us; they have experience in these matters. We'll   
leave Trowa here, and-"  
  
Alice was already dialing the phone again. "Dorothy?   
Yeah, we heard. Lady Une and I are heading out, but   
we're gonna need at least one more person here- Yeah,   
send Quatre. Thanks." She hung up the phone as they   
were racing into the waiting room, where Lucrezia and   
Milliardo sat with the kids.   
  
"Dorothy's calling Catherine, getting somebody to   
watch the kids," Alice told Une, who nodded.  
  
She gestured sharply at Milliardo and Lucrezia. "I   
need you two to head back to headquarters, and   
coordinate things with Dorothy."  
  
"What's going on?" Lucrezia asked as they gathered   
their things.  
  
Une explained quickly.  
  
"Damnit," Milliardo said quietly, hoping the children   
wouldn't catch it.  
  
* * *  
  
David and Mariemaia were seated before the laptop   
several hours later, a collection of empty soda cans   
and several crumb-strewn paper plates set aside on a   
nearby table evidencing they'd been there a while.   
Neither of them even looked up as John Ling's key   
turned in the door, and the chief of police stepped   
into the apartment.  
  
"David? Oh, hello, Mariemaia..."  
  
Mariemaya looked up first. "Hey, Mister Ling." She   
poked David in the back with a fingernail. "Dave,   
your dad's home."  
  
"Oh," said David. "Hi, Dad."  
  
John Ling shook his head. "I'll tell you, kids, I   
have had a hell of a day." He set his briefcase on   
the kitchen table beside the laptop and flipped it   
open. "Found something for you, though..."  
  
"Yeah?" asked Mariemaia. She looked up as Ling dug   
out a manila file folder and handed it to her.   
"What's this?"  
  
"Police reports on the council bombing ten years ago.   
It may not be much, and it's probably not near what   
your mother's got in her files, but..." Ling   
shrugged. "I had a funny feeling about one of the   
Preventers taking notes for Une's people back then...   
Like maybe he wasn't going to report everything the   
way it should've been, so there /might/ be something   
in here that could help you..."  
  
"With what?" Mariemaia asked. She'd thought that only   
she, David, and Dorothy knew what they were up to.  
  
Ling laughed softly. "I wasn't born yesterday. I   
don't know, and I don't /want/ to know, exactly what   
you're up to, but I know it goes back to that. I   
think maybe I know why, but-" He shook his head.   
"Anyway. You can keep the file- nobody's going to   
miss it. Let me know if I can do anything else to   
help."  
  
With that he turned down the hall and stepped into   
his room, closing the door behind him. In his wake   
Mariemaia and David were left looking at each other,   
Mariemaia only a bit startled, but David looking   
quite shocked.  
  
"Shit," he said, "I thought we'd been more subtle   
than that..."  
  
Mariemaia shook her head. "Couldn't be subtle   
/enough/ to keep your dad from knowing we were up to   
something, Davey. He's a cop, for crying out loud."   
She sighed. "That's why I wanted cousin Dorothy in on   
this, tell you the truth. Because I know Mom's going   
to know I'm up to no good, and this way somebody she   
trusts can say that she's been helping us all along."  
  
"We haven't seen Dorothy since right after the party,   
though. Not about this at least."  
  
"/I/ know that, and /you/ know that, but Mom doesn't   
need to, now does she?"  
  
Mariemaia flipped open the file and scanned its   
contents. She pursed her lips as she turned a page...   
and blinked as a detail jumped out at her. "I   
think... David, check me on this?"  
  
"Okay," he said. "What's up?"  
  
"Linnea Khushrenada was born in AC 171," Mariemaia   
said. "But information on her only goes back to AC   
191... There's no record of her before that."  
  
"Okay," said David, not following her yet.  
  
"So she should be thirty-nine, but she's not.   
According to her records, she's nineteen."  
  
"Like hell," David said.  
  
"My thoughts exactly. To be nineteen, she'd have to   
have been born in 191..."  
  
"Which is the year your real mother- the year Leia   
Barton died," David said, finally making the   
connection.  
  
"Bingo," said Mariemaia. "Linnea Khushrenada was born   
/the same year Leia Barton died./"  
  
"That," said David, "is just too weird."  
  
"Yeah," Mariemaia agreed, "Unless we're supposed to   
believe it's an error in the records, and Linnea's   
really nineteen..."  
  
David laughed. "Riiight. Sure she is. That'd make her   
only two years older than you were, which is   
impossible, because she was already a councilor   
during the bombing ten years ago..."  
  
Mariemaia reached for the telephone. "I'm calling   
Dorothy."  
  
* * *  
  
One of Linnea's aides sorted through the singed   
folders they'd rescued from the police records room,   
before tossing down the last stack with a sigh. "It's   
not here."  
  
"We're too late," said his companion, the councilor's   
driver. "She's not going to be happy about that."  
  
"No kidding. Let's get out of here, quick."  
  
* * *  
  
Nichol held the cell phone against his ear, listening   
as Linnea relayed his instructions. "Alright," he   
said into the phone, "but I don't see how I'll get   
close enough to-"  
  
"You'll manage," Linnea said sweetly. "I have faith   
in you, Nichol."  
  
Nichol sighed as he pulled his car into the   
hospital's back parking lot. "Why not just grab all   
of them while we're at it?"   
  
"Don't be stupid. I don't need all of them. Just the   
ones I told you about..."  
  
She cut the connection before he could reply, and   
Nichol swore under his breath. He /would/ manage   
somehow, he'd have to, but he didn't relish the   
thought of making this attempt.  
  
* * *  
  
Seventeen year old Carolyn Catalonia-Bloom, the   
adopted child of Dorothy Catalonia and Catherine   
Bloom, smiled and waved at Milliardo and Lucrezia as   
she skidded into the hospital waiting room, auburn   
hair and denim jacket trailing out behind her.  
  
"Carolyn!" several voices exclaimed, and Carolyn   
found herself attacked by the small forms of Lewis   
Chang, Elena Peacecraft and her brother Galen, and   
the Barton-Winner kids, Jeff and Alex. This was not   
counting her own younger sister, Sarah, who clung to   
Carolyn's back.  
  
"Thank God," Milliardo said. "Tell me Catherine sent   
you."  
  
"Yep," said Carolyn. "Jessica's sick, and Mom's   
staying with her, otherwise she'd have come herself."   
She lifted Sarah from her back and set her down upon   
the floor. The eight-year-old immediately threw her   
arms around Galen, who made a face. "She sent this   
one with me so she wouldn't catch it- at least,   
that's the theory." Carolyn brushed a strand of hair   
out of her eye. "Mama, of course, is working late."   
To the Catalonia-Bloom kids, 'Mom' was Catherine,   
'Mama' was Dorothy.  
  
"Did you see any of the Preventers downstairs?"   
Lucrezia asked anxiously. "I hope so, because we've   
got to go-"  
  
"I know, and I saw half dozen or so, including Uncle   
Trowa and Uncle Quatre," Carolyn replied. "Relax,   
we're covered."  
  
Milliardo nodded. "Good. If you're sure you're okay   
keeping an eye on this bunch-"  
  
"I'll be fine," Carolyn said. She adored children,   
and never minded babysitting her younger 'cousins',   
and watching over this small gathering of them was   
nothing compared to having to look out for them /all/   
once the Peacecraft-Yuy's daughter (Leanne), the   
Maxwell brood (Claire, Mark, and Andrew), and the   
Khushrenada twins were added to the mix.  
  
"I can handle it," Carolyn said again, shooing   
Milliardo and Lucrezia out of the room. "And I know   
you've got to go."  
  
* * *  
  
Nichol entered the hospital through the back door,   
cutting through the busy kitchen to avoid notice. He   
went up the fire stairs to the third floor, and   
peered out into the waiting room.  
  
It was better than he could have hoped. Lucrezia Noin   
and Milliardo Peacecraft were gone, leaving only one   
older child- he thought he recognized the oldest of   
the Catalonia-Bloom brats -to watch over the others.   
He knew that there were other Preventers in the   
building, probably down in the lobby or along the   
main staircases.  
  
Catching Carolyn unawares proved a lot harder than   
he'd thought possible, though- he'd forgotten that   
one of this girl's mothers was a born fighter, and   
the other had thrown knives with perfect accuracy for   
years. They'd taught her well, as was apparent when   
Carolyn kneed him in the groin and a knife flashed at   
his throat.  
  
"It's Nichol, right? Hi. Can I help you?" Carolyn   
asked.  
  
Nichol sighed. "I'm looking for Lady Une," he said,   
hoping she wouldn't notice as he inched his hand   
towards the syringe he carried up his sleeve. He   
slipped the cap off and dropped it to the floor.   
Carolyn heard it clatter to the ground, but too late.   
The needle slid into her arm and she fell back, her   
eyes glazed.  
  
He primed the gas grenade, then dashed back to the   
stairwell and tossed it before slamming the door   
closed. The gas would take three or four minutes to   
knock them all out, and not for the first time he   
wished the duration were shorter. He needed to grab   
the ones he'd come for, and get out quickly.  
  
He hadn't asked why Linnea had wanted the two   
children he'd been sent for specifically, nor did he   
want to know. It was enough that she had asked him to   
fetch them, that he would get what he'd asked of her   
if he did it, and probably wouldn't live out the day   
if he did not. In any case this brood was nothing to   
him, he cared not at all for them except as they   
might be used to further his own ends through Linnea.  
  
When the gas had cleared, Nichol stepped back into   
the waiting room. He picked up Elena and draped her   
over one shoulder, then kicked at Carolyn until she   
woke enough to listen to him. "Get your sister and   
come with me."  
  
Held in a state of hypnosis by the drugs, Carolyn had   
little choice but to obey. She lifted the limp form   
of Sarah and followed Nichol, mechanically, down the   
stairs and out to his waiting car. She placed Sarah   
in the back seat beside Elena, but, when she started   
to climb in after them, Nichol shoved her back, hard.  
  
Carolyn fell to the pavement near the hospital's back   
entrance, groaning once before she returned to   
unconsciousness. The Preventers, stationed as Nichol   
had guessed they would be at the main and emergency   
room entrances, did not notice the unremarkable aged   
vehicle as it pulled out of the lot, nor did anyone   
stumble across the inert figure of Carolyn until   
Nichol was long gone.  
  
* * *  
  
Lewis Chang woke first. He coughed, and glanced   
around. The last thing he remembered was seeing   
Nichol approaching Carolyn.  
  
"Caro?" he called out, coughing again. She didn't   
answer, and he realized the auburn-haired girl wasn't   
there.  
  
The others began to come awake then, the younger ones   
realizing immediately that something was wrong. Alex   
burst into tears, and his older brother tried to   
comfort him.  
  
"Where's Caro?" Galen Peacecraft asked.  
  
"Dunno," said Lewis. It was only then, as he looked   
to Galen, that he realized the boy's sister was   
missing, too, as was Sarah. He rose unsteadily to his   
feet, trying to think. Lady Une and Alice had gone   
back to work, and something else had come up- that's   
why Aunt Lucrezia and Uncle Milliardo had called Aunt   
Catherine, who'd sent Caro, to watch them all... As   
far as Lewis knew, there were no adults he knew in   
the building.  
  
Lewis dashed over to the pay phone, dropped in a   
coin, and dialed his father's cell phone. "C'mon,   
Dad, pick up..."  
  
"Who're you calling?" Galen wanted to know.  
  
"I was trying to call my dad...but he's not   
answering. And I don't know where Mom went when she   
left here. I think we'd better get Terra," Lewis said   
at last. "She'll know what to do."  
  
* * *  
  
Terra knew immediately from Lewis' expression that   
something was wrong. "Lew?" she asked.  
  
"Caro's gone, Terra," Lewis said quietly. "So are   
Elena and Sarah. And I saw Nichol... He said   
something to Caro, I couldn't hear what it was, and   
then she kicked him, down there, and she had one of   
her knives out."   
  
Terra stepped out of Lucian's room and eased the door   
closed. Behind her, Lewis had the briefest glimpse of   
Lucian sleeping, a book open facedown upon his chest.   
She walked back to the waiting room with Lewis and   
the others, and made a beeline for the pay phone. She   
fished Lewis' coin out of the return and dropped it   
into the pay slot.  
  
"What are you doing?" Lewis asked.  
  
"Calling Aunt Dorothy."  
  
* * *  
  
Dorothy shifted the telephone from one ear to the   
other, nodding slowly though she knew Mariemaia   
couldn't see the gesture. "Okay," she said at last,   
"stay on it, and let me know what else you find out.   
Want me to stop by David's later?"  
  
"If you have time," Mariemaia said, "otherwise don't   
worry about it, we just wanted to let you know..."  
  
"Thanks," Dorothy said.  
  
She'd only just finished speaking to Mari when the   
phone rang again.  
  
"Aunt Dorothy?" Terra's voice came across the line.   
"Nichol was here, at the hospital-"  
  
"That's /it/," Dorothy said, "I don't care what your   
mother says, Terra, I'm going to pay that wretched   
little twit a visit later-"  
  
"If you can find him," Terra cut in. "I was with   
Lucian when Lewis came to get me- Aunt Cath sent   
Carolyn to take care of the kids because of Jessica-   
she couldn't leave her alone to come watch us, you   
know? Mom and Alice left with Duo and Heero, and Aunt   
Lucrezia and Uncle Milliardo went back there, to the   
office- that's why Aunt Cath sent Caro- But Nichol   
came, and Lewis says he did something, and when   
everyone woke up, Caro, Elena, and Sarah- they were   
gone."  
  
Dorothy swore. "Hold on a sec, Ter..." She grabbed a   
radio mic off her desk. "Preventer HQ to Barton and   
Winner, come back, over."  
  
"This is Barton," Trowa's voice came over the line.   
"We're here, Dorothy- what is it?"  
  
"Get your asses upstairs, now. We've got three kids   
missing, suspected Preventer Asshole involvement. The   
others have details for you."  
  
"Right," Trowa said, and Dorothy could hear his and   
Quatre's running footsteps as they raced from the   
lobby.  
  
"Stairs?" Quatre asked.  
  
"Elevator's faster, I'd bet," Trowa replied. "We'll   
take care of it, Dorothy. Anything else?"  
  
"No." She sighed. "I'll screen Cath and the others.   
HQ clear."  
  
* * *  
  
The Place Between Worlds  
  
Treize chipped ice from the edge of the Well of Souls   
with fingers that no longer felt the cold, and   
sighed. He gazed down on the images still rimmed with   
ice where he hadn't yet cleared it away, saw the   
children gathered under Carolyn's care, and allowed   
himself a small smile. They had all done so well for   
themselves, his family, his friends, and Treize was   
almost as proud of Dorothy's eldest as he was of his   
own children.  
  
Then...  
  
/"It's Nichol, right? Hi. Can I help you?"/  
  
/"I'm looking for Lady Une."/  
  
And, finally, /"Get your sister and come with me."/  
  
He felt cold hands on his shoulders, drawing him   
back. "This is not your concern," said Death. "Your   
children are unharmed, Ghost Knight. Let it be."  
  
"You feel no sympathy, do you? For anyone?"  
  
"Sympathy does not go along with my occupation, as   
you well know," Death replied. The specter seated   
himself beside Treize and gazed down into the pool.   
"But they can deal with this on their own, for now.   
They do not need you yet."  
  
"How can one deal with such a thing?" Treize asked.   
"Elena and Sarah taken, and Caro-" He winced. "That   
could so easily have been Mariemaia, Terra, Lucian...   
but I care for those others no less because they are   
not mine."  
  
"Of course," Death said, "it's your nature. But,   
look." He gestured to the pool, where they could see   
Trowa and Quatre arriving and joining the remaining   
children. "I tell you, the land of the living is not   
your concern, not yet."  
  
"You keep saying 'yet'," Walker commented as he faded   
into view beside them. "Does that bother anyone   
else?"  
  
Treize raised a hand slightly, weather in greeting or   
agreement, Walker couldn't tell. The former OZ   
officer peered into the pool. "Bastards," he   
muttered. "I don't get it, though," he went on. "If   
Terra and Lucian are really the ones they're after-"  
  
"They have their reasons, you can be sure of that,"   
Death said with a long-suffering sigh. "Now, you   
two..." With a gesture of his scythe the Well turned   
opaque. Treize glared up at him, but the specter   
remained firm. "I need your full attention, Ghost   
Knight, Mister Walker. Have I got it?"   
  
"You do now," Treize said quietly. "Go on, then."  
  
"This-" Death gestured to the ice rimming the Well,   
"disturbs me greatly."  
  
"I'm not exactly fond of it either," Treize said,   
"but I fail to see what I can do about it."  
  
"You know, Walker has told you, that you have enemies   
here, as well as there." Death gestured to the now-  
dark pool. "You need to find and deal with them.   
Until you do, the others are in danger on two fronts.   
Think of it- if you can affect the world in ways you   
should not, with so much changed, who is to say they   
can't, as well?"  
  
"I thought," Walker said into the stunned silence   
that followed, "you couldn't aide the living in any   
way, that it wasn't allowed."  
  
"This-" Death gestured now to the unnatural winter of   
the Place Between Worlds "This changes everything,   
Walker. You know it does."  
  
Treize nodded, and stood. He looked to Walker, who   
nodded in reply. "Alright," the Ghost Knight said   
quietly. "Let's go. We're settling nothing standing   
around here."  
  
Death waved them off with a gesture of his scythe.   
"Go. You do what you must, but your obligations to   
others are not lifted. I will watch, and summon you   
if you are needed."  
  
Treize and Walker exchanged looks. "Trust /you/ to   
watch over the ones we love?" Walker said it for both   
of them.  
  
"Death is the greatest truth in existence, gentlemen,   
therefore I cannot lie. If I say I will watch, then I   
will do so. Go, quickly- the sooner you put an end to   
this, the better."  
  
* * *  
  
"He makes it sound so damned easy," Walker said as   
they looked out at the depressingly large gathering   
of souls milling about the Place.  
  
Treize nodded, stroking his chin. He watched the   
souls as they passed, gauging their moods and   
attitudes, and finally came to a decision. "You told   
me not so long ago that your strength might be that   
you were an 'ordinary' soul. I want you to do   
something for me. Fade into this mass, become   
'ordinary', unnoticed. You know what we seek- tell me   
when you've found it."  
  
"Alright," Walker said. "What are you going to do?"  
  
"I will be what I am," Treize said. "I will fulfill   
my role, do what must be done."  
  
Something in Treize's sapphire gaze made Walker look   
away, and he did not want to ask what the other man   
had in mind. It was then that he began to truly   
understand the power of the Ghost Knight, and what   
made Treize Khushrenada so different from him.  
  
* * *  
  
The Lings' phone rang four or five times before John   
Ling realized his son and Mariemaia were probably too   
involved in their research to answer it, and went to   
do so himself. He listened for a moment as Dorothy   
Catalonia explained the situations, the children and   
the fire, then called out "Mariemaia" in a voice that   
made her turn immediately and take the phone from   
him.  
  
A few moments later she apologized quickly to David,   
gathered her things, and dashed for the door. "I'm   
sorry," she said as she stepped out into the hallway,   
"I've got to-"  
  
"Go," David told her. "You need a ride?"  
  
"No, thanks, I'm okay."  
  
"I'll walk you out."  
  
David followed her out to the parking lot, and   
watched as she got into her car. He waited until she   
had gone and several moments had passed before   
pulling his car keys from his pocket and hopping into   
the station wagon that was his own mode of   
transportation.  
  
His pager went off as he was pulling out of the lot,   
and he sighed as he glanced at the number. There was   
a phone installed in the car, but he wasn't stupid   
enough to return Linnea's page on anything his father   
had used for police business. He stopped off at a gas   
station and went to a pay phone.  
  
"What?" he said when she answered at last.  
  
"Nichol's managed to do something right for once."  
  
"I heard," David said. "Mariemaia's on her way to the   
hospital now. If you ask me, you should've grabbed   
Terra while you had the chance."  
  
"No, not yet," Linnea said. "Trust me, David, I know   
what I'm doing. How soon can you get here?"  
  
"You want me to-? Why?"  
  
"Because I have two very frightened children here who   
could stand to see a familiar face. When I said   
Nichol had done something right, I should have been   
more specific- he also did one thing wrong."  
  
David swore softly. "He left Caro."  
  
"Apparently she put up a fight, and in anger he made   
the foolish decision to leave her behind. He is   
regretting that, I can assure you." Linnea paused,   
and David could nearly hear her smile. "Enough talk.   
Get over here. Now."  
  
The line went dead. He dropped the phone back into   
its cradle and raced back to the car. When Linnea   
said 'now', she meant it. David didn't like this   
arrangement, and he was terrified that Mariemaia or   
one of the others would find out about it. He'd never   
be able to explain, and they wouldn't care- he'd   
betrayed them, and the minute they found out about   
it...Frankly he would rather take his chances with   
Linnea. She was more predictable, on the whole.  
  
* * *  
  
The Place Between Worlds  
Well of Souls  
  
He could watch without aide of the Well, being master   
of this odd realm turned even more so of lates, but   
instead Death sat before the Well as Treize often   
had, gazing down. He waited, and he watched, and he   
kept his promises. Death saw the boy called David as   
he made his way to keep his appointment with a woman   
who was more dangerous than the fool young man   
realized, saw the girl called Carolyn laying where   
she'd fallen when Nichol pushed her away, waiting on   
the Preventer search teams sent by Trowa and Quatre,   
who would find her in time, but not yet.  
  
This was not his domain, as none of these people were   
anywhere near death. But he had promised his Ghost   
Knight that he would watch, and watch he would. He   
had not Treize's power to interfere, not so overtly,   
but Death has his ways, and the specter was hardly   
powerless.  
  
He saw the girl Elena claw her way back towards   
consciousness, saw her come to and launch herself,   
clumsily, with fingers clawed and nails reaching out,   
towards the silver-eyed form of Linnea Khushrenada,   
who threw back her curly head and laughed as she   
brushed the girl aside. He saw Elena's companion,   
young Sarah, begin to weep as she cried out, "Where's   
Caro?" And even the specter of Death had to admit, if   
only to himself and in the privacy of his own cold   
heart, that he felt a twinge of something... Could it   
be pity? Pity for these children? Pity for all of   
them, pity for...  
  
...for this woman, the lovely brunette with the   
haunted eyes, the woman Treize had loved enough to   
defy him when none other dared? Could it be that he   
pitied her, pitied them?  
  
The woman seemed to meet his skeletal gaze, and in   
that moment Death understood much. No, he could not   
pity her, not this one. She had suffered much, but   
she neither took, nor asked for, anyone's pity.  
  
Death shook his head, and gestured irritably at the   
Well, returning its focus to the others the Ghost   
Knight held most dear, and the woman who had called   
Walker inexplicably back from a place where there   
should have been no return. He settled back on his   
heels, holding to the haft of his scythe for support,   
and continued his vigil. 


	10. The Dark Knight

Ghost Knight  
Chapter 10  
by Anne Khushrenada  
  
Lady Une swiped ash from her brow and eyes, and once   
again shook out her long hair. It would do little   
good, really- she'd have to shower once she got back   
to the house, but it was going to be a while yet, and   
she knew it. With a sigh for her more than slightly   
grubby appearance- not to mention her aching back -  
she returned to her work, which mostly involved   
helping Heero, Duo, and the city police sift oh so   
carefully through the rubble and ash that remained of   
the police file storage room.  
  
"You got anything on your end, boss lady?" Duo asked.  
  
Une shook her head. "No. I'm thinking these burn   
patterns look awfully familiar, though- and those   
people from Fire Investigation agree with me."  
  
Duo swore under his breath. "Shit. I was afraid of   
that."  
  
"Duo," Heero called, and Duo rose to look over the   
other man's shoulder. Heero held up, carefully, a   
piece of what once might have been an explosive   
device- a bomb.  
  
"They did say they'd been fire-bombed," Une said.   
"But I suppose we all hoped-"  
  
"Yeah," Duo said. "But this settles it, boss. Our   
friends from the council bombing ten years ago are up   
to their old tricks again. Damn, damn, damn..." He   
kicked at a nearby pile of debris. "Is anyone else   
noting a singular lack of crispy files here?"  
  
Une looked at him for a moment, then covered her eyes   
with an ash-coated hand. "There must have been   
something here our friends didn't want us to see."   
She raised her voice and called out the door to the   
milling police and fire crews. "Officer O'Brien!"  
  
The police officer who'd made the call for help to   
the Preventers stepped into the burned-out room.   
"Yes, ma'am?"  
  
"I need to speak to your chief."  
  
"Right, I'll get him on the line for you," O'Brien   
said before dashing off to the squadroom to place the   
call.  
  
At about that moment, Duo's cell phone rang.   
"Maxwell, what d'ya want? I'm in the middle of   
somethin' here- Oh. Hell." He placed a hand over the   
phone's pickup. "Lady Une." When she didn't answer he   
called out again, "Lady Une! It's Trowa."  
  
Une turned to face him, clearly irritated. "Maxwell,   
I've got my hands full. It can-"  
  
"I think you'd better take this," Duo said as he   
approached her with the phone. "It's about the kids."  
  
* * *  
  
Elena Peacecraft awoke slowly, her vision a haze of   
darkness, her only sense that of the pain screaming   
through her. Her throat felt scratchy, dry, and she   
felt her stomach knot up, nausea gripping her and not   
letting go. She forced her blue eyes open, stared   
straight ahead until the tall figure before her came   
into focus, until she was aware of curly blonde hair,   
silver eyes, and a smile that was falsely kind.  
  
"I'm sure you feel terrible," Linnea said. "A side   
effect of the drugs, I'm afraid. It will soon pass."  
  
Elena doubled over and dry-heaved for several   
moments. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sarah   
Catalonia-Bloom, curled up against the wall, still   
unconscious.  
  
"Are you going to be sick? I can get you a basin, if   
you'd like-"  
  
Unable to take any more of the woman's sugary-  
sweetness, Elena rose unsteadily to her feet. She   
curved her fingers, nails taloned out, and launched   
herself at Linnea, a hoarse cry escaping her parched   
lips.  
  
Linnea threw back her head and laughed, raising her   
arm and shoving forward, deflecting Elena so that the   
girl fell in a heap of aching arms and legs, and was   
unable to move again.  
  
"Bitch," Elena snarled in a voice that her mother   
might not have recognized, but which would have   
reminded her father that the blood of the Lightning   
Count flowed through her veins.  
  
"Now, now, such language-"  
  
"Can't you stop?" Elena snapped. "You're not fooling   
anybody. I know what you are, lady."  
  
"Really," said Linnea, looking quite amused. "And   
just what am I, pray tell, dear Princess?"  
  
"You're a horrible person," Elena told her matter-of-  
factly. "You keep trying to get custody of my   
cousins- God knows why, you can't seem to stand a one   
of them. Now you've sent someone who hurt us all, and   
you've taken me and Sarah-"  
  
"That'll be enough," Linnea cut her off.  
  
Elena raised herself on her elbows and glared up from   
the floor. "Great," she said, "'Cause I've had just   
about enough of you, too." Ignoring Linnea now, she   
crawled her way slowly across to Sarah, and gently   
shook the other girl until she awoke. "Sare... Sare,   
it's Elena. Come on, wake up, kiddo..."   
  
Sarah groaned, and her eyes blinked open. "E- Elena?   
Don't... feel so good." Elena helped her to sit up,   
slowly, and watched Linnea dash forward as if to   
comfort Sarah. The young girl cringed back, but the   
sudden movement proved to be too much for her- she   
threw up upon the hem of Linnea's white formal skirt,   
upon her shoes and the section of floor around them.  
  
Elena smiled to herself, and kept the smile on her   
face as she looked up at Linnea. "Sorry about that.   
Since I don't think you're going to go anywhere   
wearing that, can I borrow it? I'd like to clean up   
Sarah."  
  
"You-" Linnea sputtered, before turning on her heel   
and leaving them alone in the room.  
  
It was, Elena saw now that she had a chance to get a   
better look around, a well-appointed, if sparse,   
room. The carpet was lush and thick- it'd require   
quite a cleaning to look good as new, now -and there   
were two cots with sleeping bags over them shoved   
into a far corner. A bookcase stood opposite the   
window, mostly empty but containing a few odds and   
ends, and several books. At a glance, Elena decided   
that the room had probably been rather quickly   
converted to hold them, and thus something might have   
been overlooked that could be used either as a weapon   
or as a means to their escape. She would have to look   
later- but not until she knew what the situation was.   
Trying to get out now might mean simply going from   
the frying pan to the fire.  
  
Linnea returned several moments later with a bowl of   
water, and a washcloth. She set them on the low table   
near the corner where the girls had been dumped upon   
their arrival- or at least, where Elena had come to -  
and gestured Elena forward.  
  
"Take care of the other one," Linnea said.  
  
"Her name is Sarah," Elena replied as she dipped the   
cloth into the water, which was warm, and wiped   
around Sarah's mouth. "Can we-" She coughed,   
realizing she'd been speaking too much, and that her   
throat hurt far worse now. "Can we have some water,   
to drink, please?"  
  
"Of course," said Linnea. "I wouldn't advise eating   
for a few hours yet, but I'll bring you something   
then, and in the meantime I'll get the water."  
  
She started to turn away, but Sarah begun to wail   
softly. The girl looked up at Elena in fear and   
recognition, as if she understood that the older girl   
was her only ally here. "Where's Caro?" Sarah managed   
to gasp out through her tears, and Elena wrapped her   
arms around Sarah, drawing her close.  
  
"I don't know, honey," she said quietly. "Shh, shh,   
it's okay- I'll take care of you... I won't let   
anything happen to you..."  
  
Sarah dried her eyes on the edge of her shirt and   
looked to Linnea. "When my big sister finds out you   
took us, she's gonna /get/ you, lady."  
  
* * *  
  
Linnea stepped out into the hall and waved a hand to   
summon Nichol. "Get two glasses of water from the   
kitchen."  
  
Nichol, though, was far too busy staring at her   
stained skirt and shoes to pay any attention to what   
she was saying. "What-?" he started to ask.  
  
Linnea sighed. "The younger girl, Sarah. The gas   
dosage was too high for the younger ones, I think."  
  
"It was the smallest dosage I could get," Nichol   
protested, "and I'm not about to mess with something   
that explodes."  
  
"Of course not," Linnea replied. "It might bite you.   
Now- the water?"  
  
"I'll get it," Nichol told her. "By the way, David's   
here." His tone of voice clearly showed his distaste   
for using the police chief's son in this manner, but   
Linnea ignored his obvious complaints; it was /his/   
fault Carolyn wasn't available to look after her   
younger sister and the Peacecraft brat.  
  
"You want to see him?" Nichol asked after a moment.   
"David, that is?"  
  
"Yes, send him up. We'll give him the water- better   
if they don't see you."  
  
"Right," said Nichol, thinking it'd do far more   
damage to Linnea's plans if the girls knew David was   
involved, but not about to say so; let it be on her   
head if she was wrong.  
  
Nichol found David lurking in the kitchen, slouched   
over the table, and smacked him in the back of the   
neck as he passed. "You. Fill two glasses with water   
and come with me."  
  
David replied with a suggestion as physically   
impossible as it was crude. But he rose from his   
chair without further prodding from Nichol, and   
fetched the water as he'd been instructed.   
  
The police chief's son and the Preventer headed up   
the stairs, where they met Linnea outside the room in   
which the girls had been placed.  
  
"I think he's having second thoughts," Nichol said.  
  
David spoke up quickly, as Linnea's silver eyes   
turned on him, her gaze cold. "Not second thoughts,   
no. I'm just not sure this is a good idea. If the   
girls recognize me-"  
  
"Of /course/ they'll recognize you," said Linnea.   
"You are a part of this now, David, and that means   
you're in all the way."  
  
"We never agreed to that."  
  
"We agreed you would do what I tell you- and you   
/will/ do that, boy, or the wrath of Mariemaia   
Khushrenada will be the least of your worries."  
  
"You don't know Mariemaia, lady," David replied. "All   
this and you still don't understand her..."  
  
"Neither do you, obviously," Nichol said. "If you   
did, you wouldn't have come to Miss Linnea here. You   
made a deal, now you're going to honor it."  
  
"Or what?" asked David, with more defiance in his   
tone than was really in his heart.  
  
"Careful, boy," Linnea said, taking a step towards   
him, her gaze still distant. "Your powerful friends   
will not stand beside you once they learn what you've   
done for me..."  
  
"Getting hurt myself was never part of the plan!"   
David snapped. "You owe me something for that."  
  
"Yes, and you got it- I have friends who helped Iria   
Winner develop the technology that regenerated your   
legs; it would never have happened without their   
help. So on that score, boy, we're more than even."   
Linnea shoved the door open. "Now, get going..."  
  
David tossed a look at her over his shoulder as he   
stepped over the room's threshold. "You got a little   
close to the action yourself, didn't you?"  
  
"Closer than I'd have preferred, yes," Linnea said.   
Then, "My men didn't find what they were searching   
for in the police file room."  
  
"I know." David smirked at her. "That's because my   
father is a step ahead of you."  
  
"Oh?" Linnea was interested, now, and David wished he   
could take his words back.  
  
"Mariemaia has the file," David told her before   
closing the door in her face.  
  
"Damn. Nichol!" was the last thing he heard from   
Linnea before David turned his attention to the   
girls.  
  
Elena Peacecraft accepted one of the glasses from him   
and sniffed at it. "You first," she said, her voice   
hoarse.  
  
"Don't trust them, do you, little sister?" David   
asked.  
  
"Don't call me that," Elena snapped.  
  
Sarah looked up at him, her eyes a bit glazed.   
"David? Did they grab you, too?"  
  
Elena shot a look at him that could have cracked   
Gundanum. She understood his role here, even if Sarah   
did not.  
  
"No, Sare, they didn't," David replied. He sipped   
from the water glass before handing it back to Elena   
with a smile. She just glared at him.  
  
"The other one, too," Elena said, passing the first   
glass to Sarah. "Here, Sare, drink this. It'll help."  
  
David took a drink from the second glass as well, and   
Elena accepted it from him without a word. She drank   
half of it and then set it aside on the table. "Why'd   
you do it?" she asked, and her voice was back to the   
way David remembered it; the mixture of her parents'   
softer and sharper edges. One moment that voice could   
be like velvet, the next, steel slicing through it.  
  
"I don't expect you to understand-" David began.  
  
"Oh, please! I may not be as brilliant as the twins,   
but not everything they can do is beyond me. I   
/understand/, David, I really do."  
  
"What do you understand?" David asked.  
  
"That you've betrayed us. That you sold out the   
Khushrenadas, sold out Mariemaia, the twins, Aunt   
Une... You coward! Why are you doing this? Why?"  
  
"You know my mother's dead," David said.  
  
"Big deal," was Elena's reply. "So's Mariemaia's   
father."  
  
"My mother /died/ in the war she caused! In the Eve   
Wars. I was a few years younger than her, so I didn't   
really understand then. But I do now! It's all her   
fault, all of it. I've hated what's left of her   
family ever since, and when I met Linnea, she- She   
wanted me to help her destroy them. How could I   
refuse?"  
  
"I thought you /liked/ Mariemaia," Sarah said   
quietly.  
  
"Liked her? Hell no, Sarah, I don't-"  
  
"Then why," Elena cut him off, "did you help her   
investigate Linnea?"  
  
"How do you know about that?"  
  
Elena rolled her eyes. "No one notices the kids when   
they're really busy. Lucian told me that once, and I   
remembered it. It's true. I watched Mari and Aunt   
Dorothy working on some stuff a couple days ago, and   
heard them saying you were working with Mari on it."  
  
"Huh," said David. "I've always thought they were   
stupid with security where you kids were concerned.   
Fact is, Elena, I didn't know much more about my   
employer than Mariemaia does, and that bugged me. So   
I thought I'd take what she could help me find out   
about her- maybe it'd come in handy, who knows? But   
if Linnea finds out I'm playing both sides against   
the middle-"  
  
"You're not even!" Sarah cried out. "You're working   
for Linnea, and using Mari and her family- after all   
they've done for you!"  
  
David's expression hardly changed, not even when he   
had slapped her and she lay back in Elena's arms,   
sobbing and clutching at her cheek.  
  
"Get out," Elena said, and though she was technically   
/his/ prisoner, or at least that of his employer,   
David found himself retreating before the steel edge   
of the older girl.  
  
Linnea was waiting outside, and she looked little   
more pleased by what she'd heard than Elena was by   
what she'd seen. "What the hell happened in there?"   
she asked.  
  
"You don't have cameras going? I'm surprised," David   
said.  
  
"Perhaps I do, perhaps I don't. Answer the question."  
  
"Younger girl was giving me too much attitude, so I   
decided to knock some sense into her."  
  
"It seems to have worked wonders," Linnea said dryly.   
"David."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Look at me." Miserably, he did so. "If you /ever/   
strike at one of my guests again, I will see you   
returned to the waiting arms of Lady Une's family,   
and I will personally tell that wretched woman what   
you've done for me. Do you understand?"  
  
"Y- yes, but-"  
  
"I mean what I say, David. Your father's men worked   
that case last summer, didn't they? The man they   
found floating in the river?"  
  
"Yeah," David said, then, with a moment's thought,   
"They never did find the head, but DNA tests   
confirmed he was a janitor at the council building   
when-" /When somebody screwed up and placed the bomb   
before she could get out of the building,/ he   
thought.  
  
"I see we understand each other," Linnea said.  
  
"Yeah," David said just before running off to be sick   
somewhere. "Perfectly."  
  
* * *  
  
Alice tugged at the aggravating Preventers' uniform   
tie as she stepped out into the parking lot. "Damned   
things," she muttered. Alice raised her voice. "Lady   
Une, whose brilliant idea /were/ these things?"  
  
"Why do you ask, Alice?" Une sounded more than a bit   
distracted as she spoke.  
  
"So I know who to kill," Alice replied. She took   
another, longer look at her employer, and swore under   
her breath. "Lady? What's wrong?"  
  
"The children," Une said quietly, and outlined what   
Trowa had told her over the phone.  
  
Alice sighed. /Damnit!/ "At least one of us needs to   
stay here- do you want me to go, or-?"  
  
"Please, Alice," Une said. "There's not much I could   
do there, and-"  
  
"I'll take care of them," Alice promised her friend   
as she shook ash from her braid before heading for   
the car.  
  
/Shit, where's Caro?/ Alice asked herself as she slid   
behind the wheel. /I thought she was watching the   
kids.../ She dialed Trowa before pulling out of the   
lot, and slipped on her hands-free headset.  
  
"Barton. Can it wait?"  
  
"Probably not," Alice told him. "I'm on my way over."  
  
"Good," said Trowa. "I've got my people searching the   
hospital now, but there's no sign of the three   
missing. Lewis tells me he saw Caro arguing with   
Nichol just before they were all knocked out by the   
gas."  
  
"I don't suppose anybody's seen him lately," Alice   
said. It wasn't a question, really.  
  
"Alice, have I ever told you how much I like your   
sense of humor?" Trowa asked.  
  
"Not lately," was Alice's reply. "Does your sister   
know yet?"  
  
"Dorothy said she'd call her."  
  
"Better she hears it from Dorothy than-"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
* * *  
  
The Place Between Worlds  
  
Walker moved through the crowds milling about the   
snow-covered ground, doing his best to blend in. He   
attached himself to a group of OZ soldiers- ex-OZ   
soldiers now, he supposed -and listened to their   
conversations. They didn't seem to know much of what   
was going on, but their voices spoke words he knew,   
ones that took him back to his days amongst the   
living.  
  
"-telling you, the Aires is the best of the mobile   
suits-"  
  
"Did you kick the bucket before the advent of the   
Taurus?"  
  
"Now, now- it's not nice to remind a man he's dead.   
Takes all the fun out of arguing with you fools."  
  
"-And you thought you were stuck in a rut before!   
/Man/, I'm tellin' ya, we're /never/ gonna see   
another promotion now, that's for damned sure!"  
  
Walker smiled at that last as he drifted on, going   
nowhere. The ghost of the OZ soldier sighed. He   
didn't so much close his eyes, as make the sights   
before him go away.  
  
/Do you forgive me yet, Alice? I'd bet you do. You   
always understood what I thought I had to do. But   
about this- I'm sorry again, Alice. And this stuff   
that's happening- I don't know if I can stop it, but   
I'm sure as hell going to try./   
  
With his eyes closed he could almost see her, the way   
she'd appeared when last he looked into the Well of   
Souls with Treize and the specter of Death; blonde   
hair done up in the simple braid she favored, dressed   
now not in the familiar OZ uniform he himself still   
wore, but in the garb of Lady Une's Preventers. He'd   
seen her tugging at the necktie more than once- and   
what /was/ the point of such a hideously ugly   
accessory, anyway?  
  
He sighed again and faded out, repapering beside the   
River of Forgetfulness, which he and Treize had   
chosen as a meeting place for the same reason   
everyone else seemed to avoid it- knowing it made the   
others uneasy gave them some degree of security.   
Walker kicked back against the tree stump from which   
Treize had made his short speech to the 'troops' and   
waited for the man himself to arrive.  
  
It didn't take long; Treize was becoming adept at   
knowing this realm, at knowing it as well as Death.   
He sensed where he was needed now, and he went.  
  
"Walker," Treize said with a nod. He was clearly   
about to inquire as to the other man's progress, but   
Walker shook his head, and held out his hands, palms   
up and empty as if to say 'nothing'.  
  
"No joy here, I'm afraid," Walker said. "There are so   
many damned /people/ here, though, I hardly know   
where to start looking."  
  
"Souls, Walker. Ghosts, if you'd rather be less   
poetic. Not people."  
  
Walker shrugged. "Semantics, man. Anyway- I take it   
you're not fairing much better?"  
  
Treize shook his head. "I've seen a lot today, but   
not much that makes sense."  
  
"Ditto," said Walker. "You heard anything from our   
scythe-wielding friend?"  
  
"No," Treize replied. "He said only that he'd summon   
us if we were needed, not that he'd be giving hourly   
reports."  
  
"Right," said Walker. "Well, Ghost Knight, I guess   
I'm off to merge with the masses again in hopes of   
picking up something useful this time around. Check   
in with you later?"  
  
"Alright," said Treize.  
  
He sat beside the River after Walker had gone,   
staring out at its frozen waters. He half-expected   
Death to arrive and startle him out of his reverie,   
as the specter had a habit of doing, but knew that   
Death would keep his word, and not leave his post.  
  
Treize had the eerie sense that he was being watched,   
an itch between his shoulder blades made all the more   
annoying by the fact he couldn't scratch what wasn't   
really there. He did his best to ignore it, though;   
more souls flooded into the Place Between Worlds   
every day, and there were always some lurking about   
where they should not have been. He did not consider   
these his problem unless they got in his way, or in   
such a case as Death asked him- politely -for his aid   
in dispersing them. A thing which, frankly, he saw   
the point of less and less- they would only regroup,   
given time.  
  
Treize sighed. No, there /had/ to be a permanent   
solution to this puzzle. There had to be. And if   
Death's chosen avatar couldn't find it- he shuddered   
at the thought, and cast it aside.  
  
* * *  
  
Shadows pooled around the Dark Knight, thick and   
textured, dark like seawater nearest the depths of   
the ocean's floor. The Knight herself stood cloaked   
in her shadows, garbed in the ebony armor of her   
office, staring out with violet eyes that pierced the   
darkness. Her fingers twitched at her side, near the   
hilt of the rapier she wore, as she gazed out upon   
her eternal and ever-present enemy, the Ghost Knight,   
the man who once had called himself Treize   
Khushrenada.  
  
In life she had not known him, having died several   
hundred years before his time. But it was the Dark   
Knight's purpose in existence to oppose the force of   
the Ghost Knight; theirs was a balance that must be   
maintained. While the Ghost Knight served Death, the   
Dark Knight answered to no one save herself. She had   
been given, in a manner of speaking, the same choices   
as Treize, and was only somewhat guided by the   
aspects of Fate.  
  
The Place Between Worlds was not her home as it was   
Treize's; in reality she had no place. She existed in   
the space between places, in the time that never was.   
These things made as much sense to her as they were   
ever going to. It was enough, to know what she was,   
and the forces she must oppose.  
  
She did what she had to, not so much because she   
wanted to, but because it was what was required of   
her. She had made the choices long ago, and these   
things must be lived with, even in death. She could   
not touch the world as directly as the Ghost Knight,   
not yet, which was why she had made the ill-advised   
alliance with the mortal woman, Linnea.  
  
That wasn't her real name, a thing which the Dark   
Knight knew and chose to disregard. It didn't matter   
what the woman called herself, so long as she did   
what she was told. Which she sometimes did not; that   
foolish business of destroying the council building a   
decade ago had been Linnea's idea. The Dark Knight   
scoffed. Pity the woman hadn't managed to get herself   
or that fool boy, David, killed back then.  
  
She drew the shadows about herself and was gone, and   
in the instant she vanished, the itch between   
Treize's shoulder blades eased. She felt his relief,   
and clearly sensed the thought: /Yes, leave me in   
peace, you fools. You know nothing, and I would much   
rather it stay that way./  
  
She smiled as she returned to the place that wasn't,   
the place that was hers. She agreed with her ages-old   
enemy, really; better for all concerned if this   
stayed between them. Of course, it wouldn't, Linnea's   
actions had seen to that.  
  
With that thought, the Dark Knight's smile faded as   
if it had never been, and she went to one knee before   
the pool of seeing that served her in a way similar   
to the way the Well of Souls served the Ghost Knight;   
as a window into the world she could never again   
reach.  
  
* * *  
  
It was Mariemaia who found Carolyn, coming around the   
back of the hospital to avoid the knot of reporters   
who had staked out the front entrance. Somehow having   
learned of the three girls' disappearance, they were   
bound and determined to get the full story out of   
somebody. Mariemaia, for her part, wasn't in the mood   
to deal with them- her comments to reporters were   
usually crude and unkind, and Lady Une and the others   
had all but given up on advising her not to speak to   
them at all. With the newsies, Mariemaia lost her   
temper, and few of them could blame her for it.  
  
She spotted the denim jacket against the concrete   
slab, the hair tossed forward, covering the other   
girl's face. Mariemaia's foot slammed on the break,   
and she leapt from the car. She was running almost   
before she knew it, running towards her friend.  
  
"Caro!" Mariemaia exclaimed. "Carolyn!"  
  
Dropping to her knees beside Carolyn, she brushed   
back the auburn hair, one hand feeling for a pulse at   
Caro's neck while the other pried open an eyelid. She   
saw the pupil react, if sluggishly.  
  
Carolyn moaned softly, and Mariemaia heaved a sigh of   
relief. Caro came slowly back to wakefulness, her   
eyes blinking rapidly. "Mari?" she asked at last.  
  
"Yeah. Hi, Caro."  
  
Caro started to smile, then her face crumpled.   
"Sarah!" she cried. "Oh, God, /Sarah./ And Elena.   
That bastard Nichol-" She pushed awkwardly at her   
jacket sleeve, and the shirt sleeve beneath it. "I   
knew it. He shot me up with something."  
  
"Drugs," said Mariemaia. "But why-?"  
  
"Some kind of hypnotic, I think. It kept me from   
totally passing out when he tossed the gas grenade.   
He told me to get Sarah, and I didn't have any   
/choice/, I couldn't move except to do what he said.   
He put Elena in the back of his car, and I put Sarah   
in. I started to get in, too, and he pushed me away-   
that's the last thing I remember. I guess I hit my   
head."  
  
"Your neck doesn't hurt or anything?" Mariemaia   
asked, recalling what Sally had once told her about   
not moving anyone if she suspected they had a back or   
neck injury- a spinal injury such as a break could   
lead to paralysis at best, death at worst.  
  
"Nope," Caro said with a lopsided grin. "My /head/   
hurts like hell, though."  
  
"I'll bet," said Mariemaia. "Aunt Sally will kick my   
ass if I move you and you've broken your back..."  
  
"My back is fine," Caro replied. "What I'm worried   
about isn't me- it's Sare and Elena. Where the hell   
did Nichol-?"  
  
"Trowa's got people on it," Mariemaia said. She   
helped Carolyn to stand, carefully, and the two   
inched their way along to the back entrance. Caro   
swayed in her arms and lost consciousness again, and   
Mariemaia raised her voice to shout for a doctor.  
  
Sally was standing over her by the time Carolyn   
regained consciousness. She'd been moved to a bed in   
the emergency department, and Sally was speaking   
quickly to an ER nurse.  
  
"I don't like the way she keeps going in and out like   
this- she's probably got a concussion, and things are   
crazy enough that even if she's got somebody who can   
keep her awake, I don't want to send her home..."  
  
"Please, Aunt Sally," Caro cut in, "I've got to see   
my parents..."  
  
"They'll be by later," Mariemaia said. "I just got   
off the phone with Aunt Catherine- who is seriously   
pissed, by the way. When we catch up with Nichol,   
Uncle Milliardo may have to stand in line."  
  
"Did you tell her-?"  
  
"She knows we found you, and that Sally's holding you   
hostage till morning, yes," Mariemaia said. "You can   
go visit my little brother later on- commensurate   
together on Aunt Sally's sadistic tendencies to   
confine people here."  
  
Caro couldn't help laughing at that. "Alright,   
alright. But-"  
  
"Enough," Sally interrupted. "Carolyn, I'd like to   
run some tests, to find out just what Nichol gave   
you. We've had the gas from the grenade analyzed, but   
I'm worried about the hypnotic and the damage it may   
be doing your system. And before we can counter it-"  
  
A lab technician stepped forward, holding a tray of   
needles and tubes.  
  
"You've got to know what it is," Caro said. "Sure, no   
problem." She looked at her arms, then at the tech.   
"You want the one Nichol stabbed, or the other?"  
  
"Let's try the other," he said. "Give you a matched   
set, huh?"  
  
"Lovely," said Caro. "Aunt Sally, Mari-"  
  
"As soon as we know anything, you'll know," Sally   
promised, as she herded the others from the room, and   
left with them.  
  
The lab tech smiled at Caro as he prepped her arm for   
the first blood test. "Family?" he asked.  
  
"Sort of," Caro replied. "Our parents were close   
during the war- mine, Mari's adoptive mother, the   
parents of the other kids- You seen them today? Bunch   
of them up on Three?"  
  
"Oh yeah," said the tech. "Just a pinch now..."  
  
"I don't know why you always give us that bullshit-   
Ow." Caro grimaced. "Yeah, well... My kid sister's   
sick, so when they needed somebody to watch the other   
ones, Mom sent me."  
  
"They're Preventers, right?" he asked. "Your   
parents?"  
  
"Most of them. One of my mothers works for them full-  
time, the other is a consultant. She taught me how to   
throw knives- but it still wasn't enough to stop   
Elena and my own little sister from being taken."  
  
"Not your fault," the tech said as the results of his   
test came back. "Take a look at this." He showed her   
the readout screen. "You were given a very high dose   
of a hypnotic so unstable even the military stopped   
using it- around AC 195 or so, if I remember right."  
  
Caro swore under her breath. "The guy who took Sare   
and Elena, was with OZ back then. Specials."  
  
"Probably where he learned about this stuff, if not   
where he grabbed it from," the tech said. "I've got   
to get this report to Dr. Chang. You okay for a few?"  
  
"Yeah," Carolyn said, though the last thing she felt   
was okay. Her sister and Elena were missing, taken by   
the one Preventer none of them trusted, who Caro   
suspected, but thus far couldn't prove, was working   
at some level with Linnea Khushrenada, who had been   
the bane of their existence with a renewed vengeance   
since the start of the summer.  
  
Often praised by her teachers for her quick mind and   
analytical skills, Caro turned her thoughts to a   
small portion of the problem at hand- the hypnotic   
she'd been injected with, and where and how Nichol   
might have gotten hold of it.  
  
Many things had been 'misplaced' during the war; some   
stolen or destroyed by Gundam pilots or other rebel   
factions like the one Sally and Wufei had worked with   
in China, other things reported stolen by corrupt   
officers and resold on the black market. When OZ   
decided to put an end to their use of drugs such as   
the hypnotic, less careful track was kept of all the   
samples. People were supposed to /know/ it was   
dangerously unstable by then, and any reasonable   
person would have kept well away from it.  
  
Which was, Caro thought wryly, perhaps one   
explanation for how Nichol had ended up with a   
syringe full to stick in her arm this afternoon, if   
not exactly what she'd been looking for. She sighed.   
She would have to give this more thought, perhaps   
when her head was clearer.  
  
* * *  
  
Realm of the Dark Knight  
Pool of Seeing  
  
The Dark Knight fell to one armor-clad knee, and   
teased at the waters before her with the shadows   
under her command. "Linnea," she said in a voice that   
was cold and ageless.  
  
The silver-eyed woman appeared in her view, her image   
fading out at the edges. She brushed at the wisps of   
her curly hair, as if meaning to look her best, and   
the Dark Knight stifled a laugh.   
  
"L-lady," Linnea spoke up at last.  
  
The Knight shook her head, dark brown hair dancing   
over her shoulders though Linnea could not see it.   
She had not removed her helm in centuries; no one   
needed to see her face, and she could not herself   
stand to look upon it. "You have done what I asked,   
Linnea, but only just."  
  
"Mistress, I thought-"  
  
"/You/ wanted this alliance, Linnea- wanted it rather   
badly as I recall. And the conditions of it were   
simple. You were to do /exactly/ as I asked of you-   
and that is very important to me, my dear. /Very/   
important." The Dark Knight glared down upon her   
misguided mortal agent. "No protests of your   
innocence? Good girl. Now, answer me this: Elena,   
Sarah, Carolyn. What were you /thinking/?"  
  
"Perhaps- leverage, over the others, Mistress?"  
  
Again the Knight shook her head. "No. You would turn   
them first, wouldn't you? So your would-be Empress   
has ready allies?"  
  
"Queen," Linnea corrected softly.  
  
"Don't," the Knight said. "Linnea, Linnea, Linnea...   
you're not /thinking/! If what you want is something   
of the familiar for your would-be Queen, something   
you can trust, you need the twin. Not the others."  
  
Linnea shook her head. "I've told you- The twin is   
not amiable. It's the reason I chose Terra in the   
first place. Her brother is too much his father's   
son."  
  
For the first time the Dark Knight lost control of   
her tightly-reined emotions. "You are a monster. You   
would use children for your own ends-"  
  
"And you're hardly a saint, lady, so don't you start   
throwing stones-"  
  
Violet eyes flared at her through the eye slits of   
the helm, and Linnea shrank back. "I am not one of   
your mortal pawns, /Leia/. You may have cheated   
Death, but I know how much it has troubled him. If   
you would see this through to its end, you will see   
him again, and sooner than you'd like. I can make   
sure of it."  
  
"Bitch!" cried Linnea.  
  
The Dark Knight laughed. "Yes, my dear. Yes, I am   
that, and many other things besides. Now. You will do   
as I say, or I shall withdraw my support from you.   
With no avatar to support you, you will revert to   
what you are- a dead woman who has lived too long.   
Think on that."  
  
The pool turned opaque again; she had said what she   
wished to, and any rebuttal Linnea might form was not   
important. It was only when she saw his reflection in   
the waters that she knew she was not alone.  
  
"This is /my/ place!" she snarled at the specter at   
her back. "It may not truly exist, but it is /mine/,   
and you cannot-"  
  
"Peace, my dear." Death tossed back the hood of his   
cloak, and for just a moment she saw not the skeletal   
features of the specter, but the face of a man,   
remarkably ordinary- hazel-green eyes, dark hair, a   
small beard- and then it was gone.  
  
"Don't!" she cried. The Knight regained control of   
herself with an effort, and heaved a sigh. "What do   
you want? You should be back in your own realm."  
  
"And I will go soon, but first-" Death paused as he   
drew back up his hood. "I was wrong, wasn't I? You   
are not my Ghost Knight's enemy, not here. Not   
intentionally. Linnea-"  
  
The Knight shook her head. "Perhaps. But who is to   
say that mine is the only patronage she enjoys?"  
  
Death sighed. "You are right, and I was a fool not to   
see it."  
  
"You are busy, old friend," she said quietly. "And   
she is but one soul-"  
  
He laughed shortly. "So I once thought of Treize   
Khushrenada. Careful how you choose your avatars,   
lady- or how they choose you."  
  
She bowed slowly. "If it is your wish, I will speak   
to the Fates."  
  
"I doubt they will intervene yet."  
  
"No, of course not," she replied. "But it may be that   
I can learn something of use from them."  
  
Death nodded, and returned to his own realm by   
stepping backward and fading from her sight. 


	11. Spirits & Prayers

Ghost Knight  
Chapter 11  
by Anne Khushrenada  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own any of the canon Gundam   
characters. To steal a line from Ashura, I think they   
own /me/ by now. I'm quite sure Dorothy and Lady Une   
do, and sometimes they're not nice people. Alice   
McKenzie, Terra, Lucian, Elena, Caro, and the rest of   
the kids are mine. Linnea and her friends belong to   
themselves because I don't want them anymore.  
Warnings: implied yuri (DxC), yaoi (3x4). More like   
shounen ai and shoujo ai, really.  
Pairings of note: 13x11, 6x9, the aforementioned DxC,   
3x4. Also 5xSP, 1xR, 2xH, but these have hardly been   
mentioned yet. Too many characters, too little time.  
  
Catherine Catalonia-Bloom twirled a pair of knives in   
her hands, and the look in her blue-grey eyes was a   
dangerous one. She was often thought of by her   
friends and their children alike as the kindest, and   
the gentlest of the 'aunts', but there was steel to   
Catherine, a thing within her that could make her   
every bit as strong, every bit as dangerous, as any   
of the others. Fiercely protective of those she   
loved, the kidnapping of her middle child and the   
harm done her eldest, had brought that steel core to   
the surface.  
  
Metal sang as Catherine's knives cut through air, and   
with a sharp cry she spun for the opposite wall. She   
hardly felt it as the first knife left her hand, only   
saw it flying through air and fixed her eyes upon it,   
listening for the sound as it struck home.  
  
/Thunk./  
  
"Catherine," Dorothy said. She stood in the room's   
doorway, arms crossed, eyeing the fencing foil upon   
the wall in a way that suggested she wanted nothing   
so much as to draw it and hack something to pieces   
with it.  
  
"Jessica's sleeping," Catherine said quietly. "She's   
had a long day."  
  
"How's she doing?" Dorothy asked.  
  
"A couple more days, and I think she'll be through   
the worst of the cold. I gave her some soup   
earlier..."  
  
"Good," Dorothy said. She crossed the room, stood at   
Catherine's back. She placed slim hands upon her   
lover's shoulders. "Good. Oh, Catherine-"  
  
/Thunk./  
  
The second knife sank hilt-deep into the plaster of   
the far wall. Numerous marks surrounded Catherine's   
two knives, evidence that she'd been at this quite a   
while. Probably, Dorothy thought, since she'd called   
to tell her about Carolyn and Sarah.  
  
"How the hell could they?" Catherine exclaimed   
suddenly, her soft voice almost harsh. "How /could/   
they?"  
  
"I don't know, Catherine," said Dorothy. "I honestly   
don't know. But we're going to get them back- I swear   
to you we're going to get them back."  
  
"And when we do," Catherine said, "when we do, I   
want- I want-" Unable to go on, she sank to her   
knees, tears streaming down her face. Dorothy knelt   
beside her, and took the other woman in her arms,   
holding her close and smoothing back the curly red   
hair.  
  
"I know, Cath," she said. "I know. Damnit, they hurt   
our /children/, and somebody's going to have to   
answer for it."  
  
Catherine nodded slowly. "I- knew you'd understand,   
Dorothy."  
  
Dorothy chuckled softly. "Of course I understand,   
Cath. So do Lucrezia and Milliardo- they got to the   
office as I was leaving to come home, and I tell you,   
it's going to be a toss-up who gets there first when   
we catch those bastards."  
  
"I'm sorry about that," Catherine said. "You didn't   
have to come home. They probably need you there-"  
  
Dorothy shook her head. "Not really, no. The   
Peacecrafts can handle things, and half the office is   
out in the field anyway, between one thing and   
another. Half the Preventer corps is camped out at   
the hospital watching the kids, and two of those   
Preventers are Trowa and Quatre."  
  
Catherine seemed to be more than a little reassured   
by that. Nichol's betrayal had showed them how little   
they could trust some elements of the Preventers, but   
her brother and his lover would allow no more harm to   
come to any of the children. There was no one she'd   
trust more to look out for them now.  
  
Dorothy nodded, as if sensing the other woman's   
thoughts. "Yeah." She dropped a kiss onto Catherine's   
forehead. "This made it personal, Cath. When they   
involved the kids, they changed everything. And we,   
all of us, have to look out for family now. I thought   
of you and Jess, here alone, and-" She shook her   
head. "/Never/, ever think my work is more important   
than any of you."  
  
"You're right," Catherine said after a moment. "I   
just thought-"  
  
"I know. They need me; they need everybody. But we   
also need to take care of each other. That's   
important, too."  
  
Catherine took Dorothy's hands in her and squeezed   
them. "Thank you. Now, tell me everything you know-   
Everything that's been going on."  
  
* * *  
  
John Ling snatched up the telephone as soon as it   
rang. His son and Mariemaia had been gone several   
hours now, and he hadn't heard a word from them,   
which was unusual. "Ling here," he said into the   
phone.  
  
"Sir," came the voice of Officer O'Brien, "I've got   
Lady Une of the Preventers here, and she says she   
needs to talk to you right away-"  
  
"Put her on, please."  
  
Lady Une spoke quickly once the phone had been passed   
to her. "John. Lady Une here."  
  
"How's my file fire?" Ling asked wryly.  
  
Une laughed softly, but quickly turned serious.   
"John, the files are gone."  
  
"Burned? All of them? Damn."  
  
"No," Une corrected. "Not burned, John- /gone./   
Someone took them before they set the fire, and, we   
think, then set the fire-"  
  
"To make us believe that the files had been   
destroyed, not stolen," Ling finished for her. His   
heart began to beat faster as he looked to his   
briefcase, still on the kitchen table, and thought of   
the file he'd given Mariemaia. "Lady Une, I think I   
know why-"  
  
"I'm taking Mariemaia and Terra to wait things out at   
Catherine and Dorothy's. Do you mind if we stop by on   
our way there? I'd rather discuss this face-to-face."  
  
Ling nodded. It was, he decided, a very good idea,   
given the circumstances. "Of course. By the way- is   
David with you? He left right after Mariemaia did,   
when she got your call-"  
  
"That was hours ago, John," Une said, sounding more   
troubled now, "and I haven't seen him, but Mariemaia   
may have. You might ask her when we get there."  
  
"Alright," Ling said. "See you shortly, then."  
  
He hung up the phone with a sigh, and scratched his   
chin. /Where is David?/ he wondered. /This is so   
unlike him... but with everything that's happened   
lately, things /are/ a bit hard to keep track of.   
He's probably just running errands for someone, or-/   
There were any number of reasons, good ones, that   
David might not have been in touch, but the fact that   
Une hadn't seen him, /that/ was troubling, and John   
Ling could not shake the thought that something was   
wrong.  
  
* * *  
  
Alice frowned at her cards, then lay them face down   
on the coffee table in the hospital waiting room.   
"You kids are getting too rich for my blood," she   
said. "I fold."  
  
"I," said Lewis Chang, "am going to raise you ten,   
Terra." He tossed a scrap of paper with '10' scrawled   
on it into the center of the table.  
  
"See your ten and raise you twenty," said Terra as   
she pushed her own markers into the 'pot'. "Gabriel?"  
  
The sandy-haired Preventer who was Alice's cousin   
grinned at her and shook his head. "I can do thirty,   
lass," he said, before leaning over to help Jeff and   
Alex Barton-Winner decide weather to place their bets   
or not.  
  
"McKenzie," someone called from the room's doorway,   
and both Alice and Gabriel looked up.  
  
"Sorry," the Preventer said. "Gabe."  
  
Gabriel stood. "Sorry, kids. I've gotta spell Chin   
there."  
  
The Chinese man approached the table with a grin.   
"But I can spell you, too, pal. How 'bout it?"  
  
"Gabe says I should stay," Jeff announced. "What do   
you think?"  
  
Chin looked over the boy's cards, then his own. "I   
think Gabe's right," he whispered.  
  
Jeff nodded sagely. "Okay."  
  
Gabriel McKenzie stepped out into the hall and   
saluted Quatre. "Chin's in with the little ones," he   
said.  
  
Quatre nodded. "You've all been very good with them.   
Thank you."  
  
Gabe smiled. "Seems the least we can do, sir.   
Everything still quiet?"  
  
"So far," Quatre said. "You might want to check in on   
Lucian, I think he's getting a little lonely."  
  
"Sure thing," Gabe said.  
  
* * *  
  
Wufei Chang was seated in the chair beside her bed   
when Carolyn next came to. She raised a hand and   
waved.  
  
"You know," she said. "This is really starting to   
suck. Sally give you any idea when I can go home?"  
  
"The last time I was trapped in one of these little   
rooms and I asked her that, do you know what she said   
to me?" Wufei scowled. "Never. She said 'never'." He   
muttered something that sounded like a complaint   
about women and things they thought were funny.  
  
Caro laughed. "It /is/ funny, and she told me the   
same thing. But I feel useless here. Weak, stupid,   
and useless."  
  
"You are none of the above," Wufei said gruffly. "You   
are the child of Dorothy, who scares even me at   
times, and a woman who made her living throwing   
knives at people. You are not weak, and you're   
certainly not stupid. The information on the drug you   
got from that technician- Lucrezia's digging into   
that back at HQ, looking into the old OZ files and   
such..."  
  
Caro nodded. "Okay. So I've helped with one silly   
little thing. But- aren't you angry at me? If they   
had wanted Lewis, they could have taken him. I   
failed."  
  
"No," Wufei said. "You tried to fight. You defended   
the little ones, and if Nichol were not dishonorable,   
you could have bested him."  
  
"I should have been more suspicious," Caro said. "We   
know he's trouble."  
  
"We knew he was an idiot," Gabe McKenzie said from   
the doorway. "We did /not/ know he was a traitor. And   
that's /our/ fault for not taking a closer look at   
him when he was just annoying and hadn't progressed   
to obnoxious and dangerous. Not yours." He gave Wufei   
a sketchy salute. "I'm on rounds; just spelled Chin,   
who's with Alice and the kids in the waiting room."  
  
"Thank you," Wufei said.   
  
They had developed a system whereby the Preventers   
going about their 'rounds' at the hospital checked in   
with each other, and checked up on each of the   
children, wherever they were. They always stopped at   
Carolyn's and Lucian's rooms, and checked in with the   
Preventer stationed there. The Preventers watching   
Lucian and Carolyn, respectively, rotated on the   
hour, and these were by far the best of Lady Une's   
inner circle.  
  
No one really thought they would see any more trouble   
from Nichol so soon, not in this area, but with two   
children gone and one nearly taken, they weren't   
taking any more chances.  
  
Gabe ducked out of the room again with a wave. "See   
you, Caro."  
  
"So," Carolyn said, "what've I missed?"  
  
"Chin on rounds, Alice before him, Ishisaka before   
her-"  
  
"Nothing else?" Caro interrupted. Wufei shook his   
head. "Where's Mariemaia?"  
  
"With Lady Une, last I saw. They're making plans to   
move the young ones to your home. They don't all need   
to be here."  
  
"And Mom needs something to do besides put more holes   
in the walls," Caro said with a nod.  
  
* * *  
  
Mariemaia knelt in the hospital's small chapel. She   
had never been incredibly religious, but there was   
something calming about the chapel, something   
peaceful about being there. The Preventers needed to   
be here, needed to be looking out for the kids and   
for further trouble, but it was good to get away from   
them for a bit, she thought.  
  
Besides, few of them would have understood what she   
was doing, in any case. Only Lucian, Terra, and her   
mother really knew- those three, and probably   
Milliardo. No others.  
  
"Sometimes I think it's just us now, Father," she   
said softly. "Mom, the twins, and I- and the rest of   
the family. But there are things we know that they   
don't, and-" She sighed. "Nichol betrayed us, and now   
Sarah and Elena are gone. Lucian's taking it pretty   
hard..."  
  
She trailed off quickly, feeling guilty as if caught   
in a lie, at the sound of approaching footsteps. She   
looked up, spotted the black garments and the   
clerical collar, and quickly relaxed. It was only the   
priest, and priests didn't see anything wrong with   
talking to dead people- did they?   
  
"I'm sorry if I startled you, my child," the man   
said. He stepped into the candlelight from the alter,   
and Mariemaia saw that he was middle aged, his hair   
steely grey with faint streaks of dark brown. His   
eyes were blue, soft and kind.   
  
"It's okay," she said quietly. "I can go-"  
  
"Only if you wish to," he said. When she didn't make   
any move to leave, he smiled down at her. "My name is   
Thomas Gideon. Might I have the pleasure of knowing   
yours?"  
  
"Mariemaia Khushrenada," she said.  
  
"I'm pleased to meet you, Mariemaia," Father Thomas   
said. "What brings you here?"  
  
She sighed. "My younger brother has pneumonia. He'll   
be alright, we know that, but- That's not the worst   
thing that happened today. Two children I know have   
been- taken, by a man we know."  
  
"Good heavens," the priest said. "What are their   
names, child? I will pray for them."  
  
"Elena, Elena Peacecraft. She's ten, like my brother.   
And Sarah Catalonia-Bloom. She's only eight."  
  
"Lord have mercy!" he gasped softly. "And you know   
the one who took them?"  
  
"Yeah. He- hurt Sarah's older sister, my friend,   
Carolyn, to get at them." Mariemaia's voice shook.   
She hadn't realized how much Caro's injury had upset   
her until she'd started to tell the priest about it.   
"I was talking to my father when you came in. He died   
a long time ago. But they all fought in the war   
together- well, some of them on different sides- my   
father, my mother, Elena's parents, Caro and Sarah's-   
We're family, all of us..."  
  
Father Thomas was nodding. "I sometimes speak to my   
father as well. He died when I was a boy, but   
sometimes I can look up there and I know that he   
hears me. There are those who think that's crazy, but   
I understand. I am sure your father hears you,   
Mariemaia, and that he looks after you."  
  
"I hope so, Father," Mariemaia said. "Because right   
now I think we could use all the help we can get."   
  
Father Thomas knelt and turned his kindly gaze upon   
Mariemaia. "Would you like me to pray with you for   
your family, child?" he asked.  
  
"I'm not sure I even believe in God," she said. "I'm   
not sure I believe in anything. Few of us do. Uncle   
Quatre's Moslem, but sometimes all that seems to mean   
is that he curses Allah instead of God."  
  
"Were you raised with any particular religion?" he   
asked.  
  
"Yeah," said Mariemaia dryly. "The Church of Dekim   
Barton, till I was six. After that- not much."  
  
"I see," the priest said.  
  
"No, you don't," Mariemaia said, angry now. "You   
don't see at all. Nobody does." She climbed to her   
feet. "You pray for whoever you want to, Father. Me,   
personally, I learned a long time ago that God   
doesn't give a damn about what happens to me, or my   
friends. If we're going to get through this, we'll do   
it on our own."  
  
* * *  
  
Lucrezia squinted at the screen before her and swore.   
"Somebody's been messing with these files," she said   
over her shoulder as her fingers hit the keyboard to   
try something else. She'd been able to access   
Nichol's personnel records from OZ, and though they   
hadn't told her much, she'd relayed everything she   
had found to the others through Milliardo, who sat at   
Dorothy's desk, working the radio and the   
switchboards. But it was the old OZ files on the   
hypnotic drug that seemed- odd was the only word she   
could really use to describe it. There were large   
gaps in the data.  
  
"How so?" asked her husband when he'd finished   
issuing his latest orders over the radio.  
  
"Look here. See these gaps? I'm no expert, but I know   
there should be stuff there." Lucrezia sighed. "Can   
you make any sense of this?"  
  
Milliardo shook his head. "Not really, no. I see what   
you see- gaps where the data we need should be." He   
sighed and snatched up a ringing telephone.   
"Preventers, Lady Une's office."  
  
"Milliardo, it's Une." He sighed again, this time   
with relief when he recognized Une's voice. "How are   
you two holding up over there?"  
  
"We've both been better, Lady. Let's just leave it at   
that. What's up?"  
  
"Frustratingly little." She paused. "Milliardo, we're   
moving the children out to Catherine and Dorothy's. I   
think we'll all feel better if we know they're safe,   
and somewhere where they can't get into trouble. They   
all want to help, of course..."  
  
Milliardo smiled at that. "Any of them any good with   
computers?" he asked. "Lu and I aren't having much   
luck cracking those old OZ files. Which in and of   
itself is weird. We shouldn't have to /crack/ them at   
all."  
  
"Did you try Treize's access codes?"  
  
Milliardo laughed softly. "I never knew them, Lady."  
  
"I know several, but-"  
  
"Not over the phone, I shouldn't think," Milliardo   
finished for her. "Nichol's specialty was   
communications, wasn't it?"  
  
"The only thing he was any good at, besides being an   
ass," Lucrezia muttered.  
  
"Yes," Une said, and Milliardo couldn't tell if she   
were agreeing with him or his wife. "I'm sending   
Alice by the office to pick up a few things; I'll   
have her bring you the codes."  
  
"Can we hang onto her?" Milliardo asked. Alice wasn't   
their best computer tech, but she knew the OZ systems   
better than they did, and just might be able to help   
them.  
  
"I can spare her for a while, but I may need to steal   
her back," Une said.  
  
Milliardo heard Mariemaia's voice in the background   
then, arguing with her mother. "You need Alice here,   
Mom. I'll follow you to the Lings' in my car, then go   
help out Aunt Lucrezia and Uncle Milliardo."  
  
Une sighed. "Mariemaia, I wanted you to stay with   
Dorothy and Cath-"  
  
"I don't need a babysitter, Mama, and I'm too   
restless to /be/ one. I've been messing around in   
Daddy's files since I was a little kid. Let me /do/   
something."  
  
"Alright," Une said. "Milliardo? Did you catch any of   
that?"  
  
"The relevant parts, yes," he said.  
  
"I don't like this," Une said quietly. "I'd rather   
not have any of the children be a part of this,   
frankly."  
  
"Mariemaia is twenty-one, Une," Milliardo said. "She   
does what she pleases; she always has. And the fact   
of the matter is that we need her."  
  
"Of course you're right," Une said. "I just- oh,   
damn. What a fool I am. Complaining of Mariemaia's   
involvement when your daughter-"  
  
Milliardo cut her off. "Is missing, perhaps drugged,   
but I doubt, in any immediate danger. It's just a   
feeling I have, really, but they want her for   
something; they wouldn't hurt her. And until we get   
her back, well- she's my little girl, but she's also   
her mother's daughter, and I suspect she'll be- how   
would Duo phrase it? Raising hell and kicking ass."  
  
Une laughed softly. "As you say, Milliardo. Keep in   
touch."  
  
"Will do," he said. Then, after she'd hung up, "Just   
don't be surprised if you can't get through right   
away." He snatched up another telephone. "Preventer   
HQ, can you hold, please?" A pause. "Yes, you /can./"   
He slammed his hand down on the hold button. "This is   
unreal. You'd think the city was in chaos..."  
  
"It's only the reporters," Lucrezia said, scowling at   
her screen once again. She'd been reduced to guessing   
at Treize's passwords, without any success. "Tell our   
people to use the private lines or the radios, and   
then you'll only have to answer half of those."  
  
"Point," he said, and started making radio calls.   
Between these he made suggestions to his wife on   
passwords. "Roses?"  
  
She turned and rolled her eyes at him. "Please. Been   
there, tried that. Anything else?"  
  
"I could keep guessing," Milliardo said, "but why   
don't we just wait until Mariemaia gets here? The   
info's not going anywhere without us being aware of   
it-"   
  
Lucrezia nodded; one of the first things she'd done   
after calling up the files was to slap a tracer on   
them. If anyone else accessed them, let alone tried   
to change or delete anything, they would know about   
it, and maybe even be able to trace that action to   
its source. She halfway hoped someone, /anyone/,   
would try, perhaps giving them a place to strike at.   
Her daughter had been kidnapped, her friends'   
children injured, and Lucrezia Noin-Peacecraft wanted   
somebody to /pay./  
  
Through her thoughts she heard another phone start to   
ring.  
  
* * *  
  
The Place Between Worlds  
  
Walker shuffled through the snow, slouched and half-  
hidden inside the coat of his OZ uniform. For a   
moment he thought he could still feel the cold, a   
freezing chill so icy that it nearly burned. Then he   
shook his head and sighed. /Great. Now I'm   
hallucinating./  
  
Of course, this whole day, if one wanted to call it a   
day, had been the stuff of nightmares anyway. Too   
damned many dead people packed sardine-style into a   
realm that should have been nearly empty, all of them   
trying to figure out what the hell was going on, and   
at least half of them panicked because they couldn't.  
  
It was insane, and frustrating to everybody, but   
perhaps few more so than Walker. He knew that he and   
Treize were the key to setting things right again,   
but like most everything he knew of lates, Walker   
didn't know /how/ he knew it.  
  
He sighed as he continued to winde his way through   
the crowds. About the only place one could find any   
peace anymore was at the River, but the thought of   
being there, alone near that thing that had made him   
forget everything once, then made him do it again   
when he came back from beyond it, troubled Walker far   
more than hanging out with the masses did.  
  
"There's gotta be something we're missing here,"   
Walker said quietly to himself. "This just isn't   
adding up right-"  
  
He fell silent as he approached one particular group,   
unremarkable except for their clothing, which was of   
a style he knew hadn't been fashionable in several   
hundred years. These were old souls, far older than   
him, and he stopped to listen, unobtrusively, to what   
they were saying.  
  
"They say the dark lady's been about," one of the men   
said, his voice a thick Irish brogue. The Irish   
accent brought Alice McKenzie quickly to mind, and   
Walker felt a pang in his heart that he'd not felt in   
a very long time.  
  
"The Dark Knight is not a thing to be spoken of   
lightly," a woman said, and her soft voice was so   
very like Alice's that Walker nearly fell to his   
knees and wept.  
  
/What is wrong with me?/ he thought. /I've seen   
hundreds of ghosts, some of them even Irish ones. But   
none of them have ever effected me the way these do./  
  
"Aye," the first man agreed, "but her lurking   
hereabouts isn't something I /take/ lightly, either."  
  
"He speaketh truly, does my brother," said a second   
man. "An' it troubles me greatly, it does."  
  
"Aye, as it does the lot of us, I think," the first   
man said.   
  
"I'd thought she was naught but a rumor," the woman   
whose voice sounded so like Alice's said. She turned   
then as if sensing Walker's presence, and looked him   
over. Her eyes were green, like Alice's, and seemed   
very kind. "Lad? Are you ill?"  
  
"Of course he's not ill, Deirdre, he's dead," said   
the first man.  
  
"You needn't say it so rudely," Deirdre replied,   
still looking at Walker. "Well, lad? Are you mute,   
too?"  
  
"No, I'm not." Walker sighed. "I'm- troubled, that's   
all. You remind me of someone I knew once."  
  
The Irishwoman nodded. "I do hate to say it, lad, but   
you looked as if you'd seen a ghost."  
  
The second man rolled his eyes. "Deirdre-"  
  
She shook a finger at him. "Don't you start with me,   
Michael- I've had more than enough of your lip today   
already."  
  
"Ye shouldn't be makin' jokes like that, Deirdre,"   
the man she called Michael said. "It ein't funny."  
  
"'Course it is, you bloody fool," said the other man.  
  
Deirdre rapped them both across the shoulders with a   
short switch she carried. "Enough, both of you. We   
were discussing the dark lady, and /I/ was asking   
after the lad's health."  
  
Walker smiled despite himself. "Oh yes, you remind me   
a great /deal/ of someone I knew."  
  
"Thank ye," she said. "My name's Deirdre. The shorter   
one there is Michael, the one who called him a fool   
is his elder brother, Caleb. McKenzies all, and proud   
of it."  
  
Walker shivered. "Pleased to meet you all," he said.   
"I'm Ethan Walker." It was the first time in ages he   
had used or spoken his given name, and to say it felt   
strange. Of those he'd known while alive, only Alice   
had ever used it. "I knew a McKenzie when I was   
alive- you have a right to be proud of that name."  
  
Deirdre smiled. "I'm glad you think so, lad. You must   
tell us some time of the McKenzie you knew."  
  
"I will," Walker promised. "Later. You were talking   
about a woman when I got here-"  
  
"Aye," said Caleb, "the Dark Knight. Not just any   
woman, or so I'm told."  
  
"Who is she?" Walker asked.  
  
"'Tain't so much /who/ she is, as /what/ she is,"   
said Michael. "An' that's a thing we donna know, for   
certes. Uncanny, that one is- lass in armor dark as   
night. When we see her, we steer well clear, an you'd   
be wise ta do the same."  
  
"Is she real, though?" Walker asked. "She sounds more   
like a legend than anything else."  
  
"Oh, she's real, alright," Caleb told him. "A bit too   
real, if you ask me."  
  
"I'll second that," said Deirdre. "She's nothing like   
the Ghost Knight, I can say that for certain. There   
are stories, legends if you want to call them that,   
about /him/, too. But that's about the only thing   
they have in common, save that the stories tie them   
together in one thing- they're mortal enemies."  
  
/Bingo,/ thought Walker. /And about damned time,   
too./ "You don't say," he said. "Is she strong then,   
the Dark Knight? Like the Ghost Knight is?"  
  
"Aye," said Caleb, "strong, and not so choosy about   
how and when she uses her power, or so I'm told." He   
shrugged. "We don't know much, really, only enough to   
be glad we've only seen her time or two, and at a   
distance too."  
  
"She doesn't- live here?" Walker asked cautiously.  
  
"No," Caleb replied. "She comes and goes. From and to   
where I don't know, but she's no part of /this/   
world, that's for sure."  
  
"Really," Walker said. "I haven't been here more than   
a decade or two, you see, and I spend most of my time   
with men I knew while I was alive- men I fought   
with." Which, in a manner of speaking, was true. He   
/had/ spent some time listening in on his fellow OZ   
soldiers, and he did keep company now with Treize,   
who he had known /of/, but hardly known personally,   
in life...  
  
"Were ye a soldier, then?" Michael asked.  
  
"Yes," said Walker. "I fought with OZ. Died for what   
maybe is a stupid reason now, but I thought it was   
important then." He shrugged, and the men nodded.  
  
"War's like that," said Caleb. "Sometimes all the   
meaning in the world, but in the aftermath, never   
seems like enough."  
  
"You steer clear of the dark lady, now, Ethan   
Walker," Deirdre said. "You've got enough problems as   
is, being dead and stuck here like the rest of us,   
without stirring up more trouble."  
  
"Good advice," Walker said. /Unfortunately, I just   
have this feeling that I'm not going to be able to   
take it./  
  
* * *  
  
Treize sat perched on the branch of a tree that   
wasn't really there, his back against its trunk,   
knees tucked up near his chest, gloved hands laced   
over his calves. His eyes were closed, and his   
thoughts followed Mariemaia through the realm of the   
living. He knew that Terra and Lucian were safe, for   
now, but Treize worried for his eldest daughter.  
  
Without the Well of Souls, he could not truly see   
her, but he could sense her presence, her living   
spirit as it moved through the world, and could sense   
those around her. She was moving now, away from the   
gathering that included her sister and mother, making   
her way towards the familiar pair of gentle souls   
with their edges of steel that he knew as Milliardo   
and Lucrezia.  
  
Treize knew that Mariemaia was troubled, her thoughts   
swirling around names, faces, /feelings/ he knew all   
too well. David's image, with a questioning feel   
beside it, a sense that something was wrong.   
Mariemaia had always been sensitive; she had known   
when he was there, even in part, when the twins and   
Une did not. She knew something was wrong now in the   
same way, knew it when the others had only started to   
grasp it.  
  
Closer to the surface of Mariemaia's thoughts was   
concern for her best friend. Carolyn's injury had   
effected her more profoundly than even she was aware   
of, and Treize winced as he sensed that deeply   
troubled part of his daughter, reeling now with a new   
pain, sharp and stabbing, an agony that screamed   
/Caro!/  
  
"And where are you, David Ling," he asked aloud,   
"that you aren't there for my daughter as she has all   
too often been there for you?"  
  
Death could answer that question, of course, were the   
specter of a mind to, but Treize doubted that he was,   
and he had greater worries in any case. With a sigh   
he reminded himself, yet again, that Mariemaia could   
take care of herself. She was going to have to, it   
would seem.  
  
Treize allowed Mariemaia's presence to fade to the   
back of his mind, and turned his thoughts to the   
others. He followed Lady Une to Catherine and   
Dorothy's home, where she settled many of the   
children. He was glad to see the young ones safe in   
the care of his cousin and her lover, but couldn't   
help shaking his head at the way Une hugged them all   
goodbye and then dashed out the door once again.  
  
/You work far too hard, my dear,/ he thought, though   
the thought was a familiar one to him now, and he   
tried to be more amused than troubled by this   
particular habit of hers. She had been much the same   
during her days with OZ, still hard at work long   
hours after everyone else had gone home.   
  
He knew why she did it, though, and that was the   
reason it troubled him. The more she worked, and the   
more exhausted she was at the end of any given day,   
the less she had to think. Treize understood it all   
too well, and wished he could allow himself the same   
illusions now.  
  
As if to underline the fact that he could not, Treize   
sensed Walker approaching quickly. The other man's   
spirit broke through the trees near the River at a   
run, and he didn't stop until he'd reached the tree   
in which Treize sat.  
  
"You don't really need to do that," Treize reminded   
him.   
  
"I know," Walker said. "Sometimes I forget. And   
sometimes I like to give you a little warning I'm   
coming, just because nobody else ever does."  
  
Treize nodded. "Thank you, Walker."  
  
At Treize's nod, Walker rose to float beside the   
Ghost Knight's branch. He crossed his legs and sat   
upon the air as if it were solid ground. Treize   
hardly noticed it, though there was a time he'd have   
found it disturbing indeed.  
  
"Just out of curiosity, did you climb up there?"   
Walker asked.  
  
"No." Treize paused. "I presume, by your rushed   
entrance, that you've got something for me?"  
  
"Yeah," Walker said. "I don't like it very much,   
though, tell you the truth."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Does the term 'Dark Knight' mean anything to you?"  
  
Treize shook his head. "It sounds vaguely familiar,   
but-" He cut himself off. "What is it, Walker?"  
  
"I'm not sure," he said. "I heard about her from a   
trio of Irish ghosts I met. They didn't know much   
more than rumors and legend, but that's better than   
what we had, which was nothing, so I asked them about   
her. And here's what I've got. The Dark Knight is, in   
legend at least, the sworn enemy of the Ghost Knight.   
She's at least as dangerous as you are, my friend, if   
not more so. And it's her sworn duty to try and   
destroy you."  
  
"Let her try," Treize said, his voice cold.  
  
* * *  
  
John Ling paced before his kitchen table, where Lady   
Une, Mariemaia, and Terra were seated. They had only   
just arrived, and Mariemaia had retrieved her laptop,   
which she'd left in her haste to reach the hospital   
as soon as she got word of the kidnappings.  
  
She held the file Ling had given her, and about it   
they had all reached the same conclusion: The police   
file room had been destroyed to prevent them from   
getting at this very file. And Mariemaia, having read   
through it, knew why.  
  
"It's a tenuous connection," Ling said. "Leia Barton   
to Linnea Khushrenada, or vice versa, but it /is/   
there, and there was definitely something in that   
room they didn't want us to get at. I can't think   
what other file might arouse such interest- we only   
kept the old ones there, cases going back ten years.   
The rest were closed, as far as I know, or had been   
open a lot longer than this woman or her friends   
could /possibly/ have been alive."  
  
"What's it mean, though?" Terra asked. "If she'd   
wanted that file, she could have just taken it-   
unless she didn't want us to know /what/ she was   
after."  
  
Lady Une nodded. "They stole all the files, then set   
fire to the building. If we didn't already have this   
one in hand- I'd like to think we'd have figured it   
out, but it could have cost us a couple days."  
  
"Days we might not have," Mariemaia said. "What it   
also means, Ter, is that dear cousin Linnea may have   
more people working for her than just Nichol.   
Somebody had to get into the file room to plant the   
device, and it had to be somebody the cops wouldn't   
suspect. Someone who had a reason for being there."  
  
Une turned to Ling. "John, I hate to ask this, but   
we're going to need access to your personnel files.   
All of them."  
  
"I think I'm supposed to argue with you at length,"   
Ling said, "but under the circumstances, I don't see   
a problem. Others might, but you let me worry about   
them. I'll get you the files, and some people I'd   
trust with my own life to help go through them."  
  
"Thank you," Une said. She skimmed the first page of   
the file again, and sighed. "If you've got anything   
else of this nature laying around, even if it doesn't   
seem at all related to any of this, you might want to   
consider storing it someplace safe."  
  
"And someplace fire-retardant," Mariemaia added as   
she stuffed the file and her laptop into her bag.   
"Next stupid question: Where the hell is my   
boyfriend?"  
  
"That," Terra said, "sounds like one of those   
questions you're not supposed to have to ask."  
  
"You said it, little sister," Mariemaia replied. 


	12. Signs, Marks

Ghost Knight   
Chapter 12  
by Anne Khushrenada  
  
"Elena!"  
  
In his darkened hospital room, Lucian snagged   
fistfuls of his blankets, then thrust them aside,   
grasping after something or someone he knew he   
wouldn't be able to reach. Before him, an image of a   
lovely young girl seemed to hover, a girl with   
platinum hair and crystalline blue eyes. She wept and   
she screamed, and she clawed at the figures of   
Linnea, Nichol, and...someone else, someone Lucian   
knew but couldn't see clearly.  
  
"Elena!"  
  
Then there was a figure in white beside him, and the   
silvery glint of a needle in her hand. "No!" Lucian   
cried, "no... I have to...have to... /Elena/!"  
  
"Shh, shh, Lucian, it's alright," said a familiar   
voice, and he turned his head to regard her. She sat   
propped up in a wheelchair, looking as if she might   
pass out any moment now. The light from the hall   
caught in her red hair, and Lucian sighed with   
relief. It was Carolyn.  
  
"Caro," Lucian said, "Caro, what happened to you?   
Where's Elena?" He didn't need to ask, really; he   
/knew/ she was gone, knew the dream had been somehow   
real. But...  
  
Carolyn and the nurse were arguing softly.  
  
"-doesn't need to know," the nurse finished firmly.  
  
Dorothy and Catherine's daughter simply looked at   
her. "He's got every /right/ to know," Caro said.   
  
"But we mustn't upset him-"  
  
"Look," Carolyn said, "he's plenty upset already,   
lady- trust me, and it'll only get worse if I don't   
tell him." The nurse left, and Carolyn looked back to   
the boy lying in the hospital bed. "Nichol took Sarah   
and Elena. He drugged me, then knocked us all out.   
They say the drug's some kind of hypnotic-"  
  
"Who says?" Lucian asked.  
  
"Aunt Sally," Caro said, and he seemed to accept this   
answer, so she went on. She explained the rest of   
what had taken place, calmly, concisely. "He pushed   
me," Caro said at the end, "and I remember falling. I   
don't remember anything else until Mariemaia found   
me. They're insisting on keeping me here at least   
overnight, and Uncle Trowa has Preventers   
/everywhere/, so I got one of them to bring me up   
here to see you."  
  
Lucian nodded. "I knew it was Nichol. He's working   
with Linnea."  
  
"We're just about convinced he is, yeah," Caro said,   
"but we don't really know for sure."  
  
"/I/ know," Lucian said firmly.  
  
Caro looked at him carefully, taking in his   
expression. "When you called out to Elena, you- saw   
something."  
  
He nodded. "I saw Elena, with Linnea and Nichol.   
There was somebody else with them, too, but I don't   
know who. It was dark, I couldn't see much. Elena,   
mostly, but I /know/ the others were Linnea and   
Nichol." Lucian paused. "Where's Terra?"  
  
"Your mom took her and the other kids to my house,"   
Carolyn said. "Jess is still sick, but they figured   
my mothers could take care of everyone well enough."   
She smiled a little, then paused. "Lucian. You're   
sure of what you saw?"  
  
"Yes," Lucian said.  
  
Caro nodded, and reached for the phone. "Do you   
think-?" she began.  
  
"Mariemaia will believe you," Lucian said. "She looks   
into the shadows and she sees our father. She'll   
believe."  
  
Caro raised her eyebrows at him as she dialed the   
phone, but she didn't say anything.   
  
"Hello?" Catherine said.  
  
"Hi, Mom, it's me."   
  
"Carolyn, are you alright?" Catherine asked. "Sally's   
been keeping us updated, but-"   
  
"I'm fine, Mom," Caro said. "Really. I'm visiting   
Lucian, and he's come up with something, so I need to   
talk to Mariemaia. Is she there?"  
  
"Not now," Catherine said. "She left about the same   
time Une did."  
  
"Alright, thanks. I'll try the Lings' next."   
  
"I /know/ she's not there," Catherine told her   
daughter, "Mariemaia, Terra, and Une stopped there on   
their way here. Which reminds me- you haven't seen   
David, have you?"  
  
"David?" Caro asked. "No, why?"  
  
"His father doesn't know where he is, either."  
  
"Really? Huh. Now /that's/ odd. I wonder where the   
hell David could've gotten off to... Did Mari say   
where she was headed?"  
  
Catherine thought for a moment. "Last I heard, she   
was going to the office to help Milliardo and   
Lucrezia with something."  
  
"Alright, thanks, Mom. You guys holding up alright   
out there?"  
  
"Just fine," Catherine said. "I'm remembering,   
though, why Dorothy and I stopped at the three of   
you."  
  
Carolyn laughed. "How's Jess?"  
  
"Her fever's down, and she's past the contagious   
stage- thankfully, with all these kids in the house."  
  
"Great," Carolyn said. "Tell her I love her, okay?   
I've got to go see if I can't track down Mariemaia."  
  
"Alright. Take it easy, Carolyn."  
  
"Yes, Mom." Caro hung up, and began to dial a second   
number.  
  
"What's going on?" Lucian asked.  
  
"Let's see. David Ling's gone missing, Jessica's   
fever is down, and Mari's probably at-" Her call went   
through and she cut herself off to listen.  
  
"Preventer HQ, /What?/" Milliardo snapped.  
  
"Uncle Milliardo, it's Carolyn."  
  
"Oh." She could just about hear his sheepish grin.   
"Hey, kiddo. How's the head?"  
  
"Still attached, though I feel like I've got a three-  
alarm hangover. Listen, is Mariemaia around? Lucian's   
got something I'd like to pass along to her."  
  
In answer Milliardo said nothing, but Carolyn could   
hear him moving the phone away from his ear. Quite   
suddenly she heard a long and very creative string of   
curses, not all of it in English, spoken in what was   
clearly Mariemaia's furious voice.  
  
"Mariemaia," Milliardo said, "telephone. It's Caro,"   
he added quickly, before she could snarl a greeting   
into the receiver.  
  
"Hi, Caro, what's up?" Mariemaia asked with a sigh.   
"How's your head?"  
  
"I should've just gotten drunk," Caro replied. "At   
least I'd have had some fun before I woke up with   
this hangover. Anyway, Lucian- Mari, he saw   
something."  
  
"What?" Mariemaia asked, softly. "What did he see,   
Caro?"  
  
"Elena, with Nichol, /and/ Linnea. And somebody   
else."  
  
"Confirms what we suspected," Mariemaia remarked.   
"Thanks, Caro. Tell Lucian for a sick kid he does   
damned good work. How'd he take the news?"  
  
"Pretty well, considering," Caro told her. "Think   
he's kinda pissed, though."  
  
"We're /all/ pissed," said Mariemaia. "If you get   
anything else-"  
  
"You'll be the first to know," Caro promised.  
  
* * *  
  
Terra leaned her elbows on the windowsill and sighed.   
Behind her she could hear the other kids, talking and   
sometimes laughing as they played. She wondered when   
it was that she'd grown too old to take part in their   
games, but these days Terra just didn't really feel   
like playing. She had too much on her mind- way too   
much, some might have said, for a ten year old.  
  
Her brother would have understood. But Lucian wasn't   
there, and she felt something like a gaping hole in   
her days where Lucian usually stood. She hadn't   
realized how much her twin was a part of her until   
his own stubbornness had gotten him stuck in the   
hospital.  
  
Her other partner in crime, Elena, was also absent,   
and that cut Terra's usual group in half. She and   
Lewis Chang were the only ones at the Catalonia-Bloom   
household, and it was not the same at all. Lucian   
couldn't be taking Elena's kidnapping well, Terra   
knew- he didn't like to admit it, but her twin had a   
special fondness for her best friend, and she'd seen   
the looks that passed between her mother, Aunt   
Lucrezia, and Uncle Milliardo when Lucian and Elena   
stood together. They knew something, something Terra   
was beginning to suspect. Normally she might have   
teased her brother about this, but it didn't seem the   
sort of thing it was right to tease about.  
  
Terra was less worried about Elena than Lucian,   
really. Elena was strong, very like her parents in   
that, and she knew Linnea and her friends wouldn't   
dare to hurt her.  
  
/Easy, Ter,/ a little voice inside her cautioned, /we   
don't know for sure that Linnea has anything to do   
with it./  
  
/Don't be stupid, of /course/ we know that,/ Terra   
thought. /Nichol has sure as hell been up to   
something, and he hasn't got the brains to be working   
alone. I still can't figure why they grabbed Elena   
and Sarah instead of us- we're the ones they really   
want- but we /know/ Linnea's involved, we just can't   
prove it. Yet,/ she amended, because her mother and   
the other Preventers were certainly working on that.  
  
"Terra?" Lewis asked.  
  
"Yeah," she said without turning. She didn't really   
want to face him, not directly. What he could see of   
her face reflected in the glass had to look bad   
enough.  
  
"I just thought of something. D'ya suppose anybody'll   
think to tell Lucian what's going on?"  
  
Terra shrugged. "You know adults, Lew. They might   
think it's better to keep him in the dark, but   
between Caro and all the Preventers hanging around   
the hospital, there'll be somebody who will tell him   
the truth."  
  
Lewis sighed. "That's what I was thinking, too. I   
wish we could be there."  
  
"Me too," Terra said, "but it's not safe, that much   
is /real/ obvious." She sighed. "I don't like it   
either, though. Having Elena gone is bad enough. At   
least if we were with Lucian, we'd have the three of   
us."  
  
"Hey, Ter, Lew," said Claire Maxwell. "You guys are   
missing a musketeer, aren't you?"  
  
"Two of them," Terra told her, "Lucian, and Elena."  
  
"Can't be the Four Musketeers, can you?"  
  
"Sure we can," Terra replied. "Athos, Porthos,   
Aramus, and D'Artanian."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"The Four Musketeers," Lewis said, rolling his eyes.  
  
"You guys are weird," said Claire. This was a very   
old discussion between the 'cousins'.  
  
Terra laughed a little. "Yeah, we are."  
  
"I wonder," Lewis said, "why Elena and Sarah. I mean,   
you and Lucian are really the ones they'd be after,   
right?"  
  
"/If/ Linnea is who he's working for," Terra sighed.  
  
"Please," Lewis replied, "it's gotta be her."  
  
"I agree," Terra said, "but Mama says we can't ever   
assume things like that. If we focus too much on that   
idea, and it turns out to be somebody else- I don't   
think it /is/, but I see her point."  
  
"So do I," Lewis said, "but that doesn't answer my   
question."  
  
"I dunno," Terra said after a few moments' thought.   
"Maybe they weren't ready."  
  
"Practice, like?" Lewis asked.  
  
"Maybe," Terra said. "I don't think that's it,   
though."  
  
"Keep thinking," Lewis told her.  
  
Terra sighed. "What else have I got to do?"  
  
* * *  
  
"We've got a problem."  
  
Duo tossed down the stack of files he'd been going   
through as he said this, and the others standing with   
him in the Preventers' file room nodded their   
agreement. After what had happened at the police   
station, they weren't taking any chances, and Duo and   
the others had set about digging up anything they   
might need from their own files, before they   
disappeared.  
  
"I'll say," Alice agreed. "Who's got the personnel   
files?"   
  
"I thought you did," Heero said.  
  
"The rest of them. I've got M through N, but..."  
  
"I am /so/ not liking this..." Duo sighed. "Alright,   
talk to me, Alice."  
  
"Madison, McKenzie, Miller, Ming, Myers...ect, ect,   
ect. Neely, Newman, Nillis, Norman."  
  
"Aw, shit," Duo said. "No Nichol?"  
  
"Uh-uh," Alice said. "Can't say I'm surprised,   
though. But I would bet that what we need wouldn't   
have been in these files anyway."  
  
"Really?" Heero asked. "Where else-?"  
  
"Hang on," Alice said, whipping out her cell phone   
and hitting the speed-dial. "Hey, boss, McKenzie   
here. Quick question- OZ personnel files?"  
  
"I've got them, but-" Lady Une paused. "Where are   
you?"  
  
"Preventer HQ. Duo, Heero, and I thought we'd   
investigate our own file room before it met with a   
fiery death."  
  
"Good idea," Une said. "Did you find anything?"  
  
"Here? No." Alice sighed. "I was just telling Duo,   
though, that I'm not real surprised about that.   
Nichol may be an idiot in some respects, but he's not   
/entirely/ stupid. I have maybe half an idea- which   
might turn out to be crap, but I /think/ there's   
something we can use in Nichol's OZ file. Not the   
computer one, the paper one. The files that were   
/only/ on paper."  
  
"Out of pure curiosity, Alice, how long have you   
known about /those/ files?" Une asked.  
  
"Oh, I don't know. Couple decades now, boss?   
Something like fifteen years, anyway. Why?"  
  
Une sighed. "No particular reason."  
  
"I paid attention, was all," Alice told her. "You   
think you still have them?"  
  
"I /know/ I do," Une told her, "but they're- well,   
let's just say I won't subject your team to going   
fishing in the dusty, cobwebbed halls of the old   
Khushrenada place."  
  
Alice laughed, and put a pleading tone into her   
voice. "Would you please get them for us, Lady Une?"  
  
"Certainly," Une said. "Meet me there in say, an hour   
or two? I should have dredged them up by then."  
  
"Alright," Alice said. "Thanks, Lady Une."  
  
* * *  
  
"You know," Mariemaia slammed the flat of her hand   
into the side of her monitor, "I think we've got   
problems."  
  
"Really," said Milliardo. "And your first clue   
was...?"  
  
Mariemaia ignored that. "No, look." She gestured at   
the screen with one hand, then went back to her   
typing. "Remember those gaps you showed me when I   
first got here?"  
  
"Yeah," Milliardo said. "What about them?"  
  
"They're getting bigger."  
  
"Does that mean-" he began, but she nodded before he   
could finish.  
  
"That something's eating your files? Yeah. If I can   
just get this-" She pounded a fist on the keyboard's   
edge. "/There/ we go. I've got the drug file   
isolated, for what that's worth. It /should/ keep the   
damage localized, for now."  
  
"For now?" Lucrezia asked.  
  
Mariemaia shrugged. "Your programs, they're not   
really behaving normally anymore."  
  
"That- could be a problem," Milliardo said as   
Lucrezia leapt at a ringing cell phone.  
  
"Yeah," Mariemaia said. "If I were going to make a   
guess, I'd say this didn't happen by accident."  
  
Lucrezia hung up her phone, and turned back to them.   
"That was Preventer Security. Somebody used Nichol's   
passwords and access codes to log onto the computer   
network today. Totally legit- except that they can't   
figure what he did; the log didn't catch it."  
  
"We know what he did," Milliardo muttered.   
"Mariemaia?"  
  
The young woman gestured to her screen, and Lucrezia   
watched data vanish from it for a while, one piece at   
a time. "Damn," she said. "We knew there were a lot   
of fragments missing, but I guess nobody figured   
they'd keep on vanishing."  
  
"Yeah," said Mariemaia, "well, that's Nichol for you,   
I guess." She closed the data file- or what was left   
of it, and tapped her way into another program. "It's   
probably way too late, but just the same I'm going to   
scrap Nichol's codes. Better late than never, I   
guess."  
  
Milliardo shook his head. "We should have done that a   
hell of a lot sooner. We should have realized he'd   
try something like this."  
  
"We've been kind of busy," Lucrezia said. "And we   
can't change what was, anyway. Let's just see if we   
can't lock him out before he does anything else   
interesting, huh?"  
  
Mariemaia nodded. "Done, and done." She sighed, and   
sat back in her chair. "Pure curiosity, mind you...   
but is anybody else getting /really/ damned tired of   
this guy?"  
  
Lucrezia and Milliardo each raised a hand.  
  
"I think," Milliardo said, "that we need to do   
something rather permanent about ex-Preventer   
Nichol."  
  
"What we /need/ to do," his wife said, "is start a   
list of the people we need to deal with."  
  
"I was thinking about that," Mariemaia said. "Say,   
Uncle Milliardo?"  
  
"Yes, dear?"  
  
"Have you seen Daddy's rapier lately? I sense a time   
coming when it'll be needed again."  
  
He shuddered, and she laughed.  
  
* * *  
  
David kicked back against the antique paneling in the   
upstairs hall, glad that the hateful woman who owned   
this lovely and yet somehow wretched dwelling, was   
not currently at home. He didn't know where Linnea   
had gone, nor did he /want/ to know- it was enough   
that she had gone, and that Nichol had vanished   
shortly afterwards, a laptop under his arm. He didn't   
want to know what the former Preventer was up to,   
either.  
  
Things being as crazy as they had been since his   
arrival, this was the first time David had really   
been able to sit back and rest, and he was determined   
to enjoy it for as long as he had it. Knowing only   
some of what was going on, he had a feeling that it   
wouldn't be very long at all.  
  
He'd brought Elena and Sarah dinner, and had to count   
it as a small victory that they hadn't made him taste   
the food before eating of it themselves. The girls   
knew by now, it seemed, that at the least Linnea and   
the others didn't mean to poison them.  
  
/And why,/ David thought, /would we do a stupid thing   
like that, when we went to all the trouble of getting   
them in the first place?/ He knew the answer, of   
course, and in Elena's place, he wouldn't have   
trusted Linnea, either.  
  
"You do not trust her now," said a voice from   
somewhere behind him. The voice was feminine, cool   
and almost cold. David did not want to turn around to   
see who it was, and indeed found that something   
prevented him from doing so.  
  
"No," David said, "I don't trust her. Why should I?"  
  
"You serve a one you do not trust. I find that...very   
interesting."  
  
"You serve her, too, don't you?" he asked.  
  
"What makes you say that?"  
  
"You're here."  
  
"Only just, David Ling. Only just."  
  
"How- how do you know my name?" David asked sharply.  
  
She laughed. "Dear boy, I know more than you could   
possibly imagine. Know this- I do not serve the one   
you call Linnea, but she /does/ serve me. If she   
fails in that service, she will die- die again, I   
suppose I should say. And all those who serve her,   
all of these will die as well. You. Nichol. The   
others, too... Remember that."  
  
David gasped, tried to form words and found that he   
could not.  
  
"I can make that happen, David. Do you believe that?"  
  
Hardly aware of what he was doing, David shook his   
head. This was crazy. Disembodied voices, a woman he   
couldn't even turn around and look at...this talk of   
service and failure and death, it was just crazy.  
  
He felt hands on his shoulders then, freezing, talons   
like ice, like steel, cold and sharp and cutting so   
deep into his skin- a pain so deep and so cold that   
David wasn't aware he had screamed until he'd done   
so. And her voice whispered, very very close, "/I can   
make it happen!/ Don't tempt fate, David... sometimes   
she reacts to that in ways you'd never dreamed of."  
  
David moaned and fell to the thick carpet. His hands   
clutched at his shoulders and came away bloody. As he   
felt the cold presence receding, David turned his   
head, and caught just the most fleeting glimpse of   
black armor, another flash that might have been   
violet eyes, or maybe just a trick of the stained   
glass window she was fading into...  
  
He felt the slap of an icy palm against his cheek.   
"Don't look at me, boy. There are things you neither   
need nor want to see."  
  
"What the hell are you?" he yelled after her, amazed   
at his boldness. /Shut up, idiot,/ he thought   
furiously, a bit too late. /Shut up before whatever   
she is, she comes back and kills you./  
  
She laughed. "Those much more studied than you have   
tried and failed to answer that question, boy. I   
don't much trouble myself with it anymore. I am, that   
is enough. I am, and I am stronger than you. You'd do   
well not to forget that- you and the woman you serve,   
as well." She paused. "Tell her that I was hear. She   
will know who I am. And, do show her where I have   
made my mark as well, won't you?"  
  
"I-I- Yes," David said, finding he couldn't say   
anything else at all. "I will show her."  
  
"Good boy," she said, not at all kindly. "I spoke a   
moment ago of tempting fate. This you have already   
done. Your days are numbered- did you know that?"  
  
He shook his head. "I don't understand..."  
  
"Of course you don't; nor should you. You won't   
understand a thing until it's too late, David; that's   
the beauty of it."  
  
/Crazy,/ he thought, /she's crazy, and so am I, to be   
believing this crap.../  
  
"No, not crazy," the voice drifted back towards him   
as she faded. "Not crazy at all." A pause, then, "I   
have marked you; you are mine now. For the brief time   
you have yet to live, you belong to me." 


	13. Twilight

Ghost Knight  
Chapter 13  
by Anne Khushrenada  
  
Treize found the specter of Death seated in the snow   
beside the ice-edged Well of Souls, his scythe braced   
across his knees. The Ghost Knight wasn't arrogant or   
fool enough to think he'd come upon Death unawares;   
the specter knew he was there, he always did, but he   
gave no sign of it. Over Death's shoulder, he saw   
Alice McKenzie seated at his own kitchen table,   
papers and file folders spread out before her. It had   
never really occurred to Treize before, as his heart   
was given to another, that Walker's lady was   
beautiful. But in fact she was, the Irishwoman's   
hair, long and blonde and worn loose now, as Lady Une   
had taken to wearing hers.  
  
Treize stifled a sigh, and shook his head a bit. /Odd   
that in all this time I have never brought Walker   
here, have never used the powers I have to let him   
see her. And he has never asked./ Then, /No, but he   
wouldn't, would he? I will let him see.../  
  
Even as Treize watched, Death reached out a skeletal   
hand, one finger touching the waters of the Well, a   
thing which Treize himself would not have dared to   
do. The image in the Well rippled and changed, Alice   
and the kitchen table giving way to Mariemaia   
standing in a hospital corridor with one arm around   
Carolyn. Death reached out again, touched the surface   
of the water, and he saw Lady Une leaning up against   
the foot of the blue and white Epyon II. Another bony   
finger to the water, and Une's face rippled away,   
because that of Milliardo, a telephone to his ear.   
Again, and he saw Milliardo's daughter, Elena,   
staring out the window of her well-appointed cell.  
  
"So you see," Death spoke at last, "that they are   
well, and I have been keeping my promise."  
  
"Are you showing off, old friend?" Treize asked.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"The gestures- they aren't really necessary for you,   
are they? You could command these things with a word,   
even with a /thought/ if you chose."  
  
"True enough," Death said, "and no, I am not showing   
off. It is good, though, at times, is it not, to   
touch something and to /feel/ it- to feel it in your   
bones, if I may be forgiven the pun..."  
  
Treize nodded. "Can you feel the waters of the Well,   
then? And do they feel to you as more than this   
spirit-stuff of which your world is made?" He sat   
himself beside the cloaked specter, and he felt   
nothing- not the chill wind that should have rose   
from the ice, not the cold of the snow on the ground.  
  
"Most certainly," Death said, but when Treize would   
have reached out his hand to touch the Well waters, a   
skeletal hand grasped tight to his ghostly flesh, and   
held him fast. "No. Not even you, I think, could   
survive that. You had your time of being flesh and   
blood, remember- your brief touch of true /life/   
beyond death. I have nothing of the sort, and so it   
is fair that I should have this. However little it   
is." The specter smiled sadly. "It is ironic and   
fitting, though, that there is no one living in this   
mortal world for whom I care. No one who's image   
touches me the way that these-" he reached to the   
pool again, brought Une's image forth again, then   
that of Mariemaia "-touch you, Ghost Knight."  
  
"Should they not be here, then, if they aren't still   
alive?" Treize asked.  
  
Death shook his head. "Those I cared for...had other   
callings. But that was long ago, and I would rather   
not speak of it now. Have you found anything?"  
  
Treize sighed. "Walker hears rumors of someone called   
the 'Dark Knight', and it seems she is the force   
Walker saw as standing in opposition to me, but-" He   
shook his head. "There is something we're missing   
here, I feel it. Perhaps it is simply that we do not   
know all of the legend- Tell me, you who have been   
here more years than most have lived, what do you   
know of this Dark Knight?"  
  
"I know much of many things," Death said, "but I may   
not speak of all of them. The Dark Knight is   
something we all choose to avoid as much as we can.   
She is said to be your opposite in all things, but it   
is more complex than that, as it is with you. We none   
of us understand her, what she is or what she does,   
but she does not dwell in this realm, nor in any of   
the others given over to my kind."  
  
"There are more where you came from?" Treize asked,   
and he must have looked both amused and troubled at   
the very thought, for Death gave a soft chuckle.  
  
"There are the Fates, and Time, the spirits of   
places, things..."  
  
"Fates," Treize said. "Once before you spoke of them.   
But if they exist, what can anything we do or do not   
do, matter now? If what will be, will be... Why?"  
  
Death seemed to understand the question, and he said,   
"Only patterns of fate really exist. The three   
sisters of Fate are curious things, and of course we   
all fear them greatly. They can weave even my own   
destiny out of this place if they so choose. One   
weaves the threads of which our lives are made   
manifest, one chooses when those lives should end,   
and the third- the third I think we all fear most,   
more than any of the others, for she is the one who   
severs the life-strands. And there are those who   
believe that they weave the destinies of the great   
ones into patterns, that every movement of their   
lives has been decreed. Perhaps it is so, I do not   
know. But as for events 'fated to be' on a grand and   
general scale- no, there is no such thing. Only   
patterns, what may be if things go on as they are. If   
this change is made, or that one, the pattern will   
not come to be."  
  
"So there is hope yet," Treize said.  
  
"Lad, there is always hope. There is /always/ hope."  
  
"Might we then, Walker and I, consult the Fates?"   
Treize asked.  
  
Death shook his head. "No one goes to the Fates, lad,   
they only come to you, and that is usually not a   
thing which any sane being would welcome. Besides,   
think you that they care for the petty affairs of   
mortals or the avatars who watch over them?"  
  
"These things are not petty," Treize said.  
  
"Aye, that may be so," Death said. "But if the Dark   
Knight is the cause of so much of our troubles,   
well... I think that she is the spirit of Entropy if   
she is anything at all, and /that's/ not a force I'd   
care to reckon with, either. She answers to Fate, but   
only in the most general terms. They cannot bring her   
to heel any more than I can you."  
  
"I see," Treize said, and by the thoughtful   
expression on his face, he clearly did. "Will you be   
here if I would seek your council again?"  
  
"Perhaps," Death said. "But wherever I am in this   
place, I will keep watch, as I promised."  
  
"Ah- one last thing," Treize said. "I have long   
wondered- what we see in the Well, is it happening in   
the mortal world in the same moment we see it here?"  
  
"A question for Time, if you can ever find him,"   
Death said, "but I think that we are some several   
moments ahead of them. There is not much in the   
pattern of things that can be changed in a handful of   
moments, you see."  
  
"But if something were seen that I felt should not   
be-"  
  
Death sighed. "You seek, as always, excuses to   
meddle. Yes, I suppose, if you saw something that you   
felt strongly enough about- and Gods know you feel   
strongly about /everything/, or so it seems! -then   
yes, if you acted instantly, very likely you could   
stop that event from taking place."  
  
"Thank you. I will remember that," Treize said as he   
stood.  
  
Death watched him turn away, along one of the paths   
that led elsewhere. "Yes, of course you will, Ghost   
Knight," the specter said. "I think at times that you   
remember everything."  
  
"And," Death called after him, "as to what you were   
thinking of a few moments ago- bringing Walker here   
to see what you and I can, would not be so very   
wrong."  
  
"I will do so, then," Treize said. Not mentioning   
that he had intended to do so whatever the specter's   
feelings on the subject. "And one other question-"  
  
Anticipating it, having been waiting for it for some   
time now, Death said only, "No."  
  
"No?"  
  
"No. It is the Ghost Knight's right to go forth into   
the land of the living upon very /rare/ occasions, if   
he has strength enough, but it is not his gift to   
take any other soul with him. Walker may not travel   
with you when you leave this realm. Though it was   
kind of you, for his sake, to inquire about it."  
  
"Am I not strong enough to do what I choose?" Treize   
asked. "Have I not will enough to draw him with me   
into the world if I wish it?"  
  
"No," Death said. "If it were your lady you spoke of,   
or one of your children- perhaps. If they were here   
among us, and you wished to take one of these into   
the land of the living, then, perhaps. But as it   
stands with Walker, no. I am sorry. I would that it   
could be otherwise."  
  
Treize nodded, and gave a little bow before turning   
and departing again. Death could not tell, for all   
his ageless wisdom, weather the bow was meant to be   
mocking or not, and this time he let the Ghost Knight   
go in peace, or as much of it as he could have these   
days.  
  
* * *  
  
Mariemaia eased open the door to Lucian's hospital   
room and stepped inside. She smiled slightly at the   
sight of her sleeping brother, and at Carolyn   
perched, half-asleep herself, in the chair beside his   
bed.  
  
"Caro," she called softly, and the redhead looked up.  
  
"Mari."  
  
"Here," Mariemaia said, helping her friend to stand.   
"Lean on me, and I'll help you back to your room."   
She placed an arm around Carolyn's shoulders and   
guided her out into the hall. The other girl gave   
directions, and Mariemaia helped her make her way   
slowly there.  
  
"I thought I'd stop by," Mariemaia said as she   
dropped into the chair by Carolyn's bed, "even though   
I figured Lucian would be asleep by now. How's he   
doing?"  
  
"Sick enough to have to stay, well enough to complain   
about it," Caro replied as she settled back in bed.  
  
"He's a Khushrenada, Caro- he's always well enough to   
complain."  
  
Carolyn laughed. "You have a point there. He's doing   
alright, though, considering. But he misses Terra,   
and as for Elena, well- You know what I meant when we   
spoke on the phone?"  
  
Mariemaia nodded. "Of course. Was he dreaming, or-?"  
  
"A dream," Carolyn said. "He kept calling out to her,   
and he told me about it when he woke up. They've   
always been close, though, haven't they? Your brother   
and sister, Elena, and Lewis?"  
  
"Yeah," Mariemaia said. "I need to tell my mother   
about all this, but I haven't been able to catch   
her."  
  
"Do you think it's important, what he saw?" Caro   
asked.  
  
"It might be. It's important that we /know/, even if   
we can't prove it, that Nichol is working for Linnea.   
We suspected, sure, but knowing is different. And if   
Mama says to the others, that she can't show them   
proof but she knows beyond doubt it's the truth,   
they'll believe. We've all seen some strange stuff,   
especially these past couple years, and nobody laughs   
quite the way they used to about tales of my father's   
ghost, you know?"  
  
Carolyn nodded. "I do know. I've always been glad for   
you that you had some way to know him- even if it's   
not in the way that most people would understand. I   
know how much having two parents means to me, I don't   
know what I'd do without my mothers."  
  
Mariemaia smiled. "I think you'd manage, Caro. But I   
know what you mean. And, think, you wouldn't even   
know it if Dorothy weren't family. And if Mama hadn't   
decided that she /needed/ to know, back when the   
twins were a little younger and we were having those   
custody battles with Linnea." She shook her head. "I   
almost wish she was still trying to work that way;   
the woman fights dirty, and she's got my little   
sister and brother caught up in this crap- and now   
/your/ sister and Elena, too. None of us want to   
fight her way, but we may not have much choice."  
  
"We'll do what we have to, to stop her," Carolyn   
said, "and if it means doing things other people   
wouldn't, so be it." She paused. "When I get out of   
here...Mariemaia, I want in on this, whatever Mama or   
Mom say about it."  
  
"You've got it," Mariemaia said. "I'd feel better if   
we had you working with us, to tell you the truth.   
The 'adults' still feel a bit odd around me, half the   
time afraid to let me do anything, the rest afraid of   
what I /can/ do."  
  
"They love you, Mari- all of them do, not just Aunt   
Une and my mothers and the others. They don't all   
understand you, but they love you."  
  
"And the kids love you," Mariemaia said. "I've never   
been very good with them, except Terra and Lucian,   
and probably only that because they're my sibs." She   
shrugged.   
  
"I think about the strangeness of my family   
sometimes," Carolyn said, "when I have time. But   
right now I'd give anything to have that cheerful   
oddness back again. Sarah-" She sighed.  
  
"I know, Caro, I know. But none of us think they'd   
hurt her- it wouldn't be logical."  
  
"Do you trust Linnea to be logical?" Caro asked.   
"You, who raged and called her a bitch and all but   
threw things when she came to your mother's house at   
the start of summer?"  
  
Mariemaia sighed. "I will never trust that woman   
until she is dead and can't touch us or hurt the ones   
we love anymore. But if she hurts Sarah, /or/ Elena,   
she knows what will happen to her. Our families may   
be odd ones, Caro, but they are also /old/ families,   
and none of us are without power or influence. The   
Khushrenada cousins- the mad ones who were always so   
at odds with Mama when I was a girl -they would bring   
Linnea down in the usual way, ruining her in the eyes   
of the world. I have a different form of Khushrenada   
justice in mind."  
  
"Mari-" Caro began, and Mariemaia was nearly   
overwhelmed with caring for her dear friend, this   
sweet and strong girl whom she had known so long.  
  
"No, Caro. I am what I am- I am my father's daughter,   
and my blood is that of the Khushrenadas. I come from   
a line of warriors, a line of honorable fighters who   
have lived and died by the sword. I will do what I   
must, to protect, to avenge, my family. And if I need   
avenge them- God help them, Carolyn, because they   
can't run far or fast enough."  
  
"I thought you didn't believe in God," Caro said.  
  
"I don't believe in anything except myself, and the   
lot of us," Mariemaia said, her voice deathly calm.   
"I love well the peace my mother fought for and my   
father died for, but I will do whatever is necessary.   
Whatever is necessary."  
  
Carolyn nodded, and her blue-grey eyes were cold.   
"I'll be right there alongside you, Mariemaia."  
  
"Carolyn-"  
  
"No," Caro said. "No. The children were my   
responsibility, and whatever drugs Nichol forced on   
me, I let them down. I said I want in on this, and I   
wasn't kidding."  
  
"Alright," Mariemaia said, taking her friend's hand   
and squeezing it before letting go. "Alright, Caro.   
My oath. If it comes to that, you're with me."  
  
"Good," said Carolyn. "I'd just have gone after you,   
anyway, welcome or not."  
  
"Yeah," Mariemaia said. "I know."  
  
* * *  
  
Duo sipped his coffee, and looked around the small   
table in the Preventers cafeteria, taking in the   
sight of his friends, his fellow ex-Gundam pilots.   
Only Heero was absent, having gone to relieve some of   
the others at the hospital. Heero was worth two or   
three Preventer guards on his own, and Duo, like most   
of them, felt better knowing he was there.  
  
"Is anybody else thinking we should have just taken   
care of the Linnea problem at the start of summer,   
whatever Lady Une thought?" Duo asked them.  
  
"Yes," Trowa said. "Maybe she was right not to want   
to push things, but-"  
  
Quatre shook his head. "I think we all knew she   
wasn't just going to go away," he said.   
  
"Hell, even I knew that," Duo said, "and I don't have   
your sense for things, Quatre."  
  
"Nor do I," Wufei said, "but I thought the same. The   
woman has no right to make claim to such an honorable   
name, and we should have gotten rid of her. Now it's   
too late. We can't even find her. Gabe McKenzie's   
team is working on it, but-" The Chinese Preventer   
sighed. "It is not an easy search."  
  
"Try 'needle in a haystack', Wu-man," Duo said. "I   
know, but we've /got/ to find them somehow. There   
should be records of this crap..."  
  
"There were, at one point," Trowa said. "But the   
computers are something of a mess, and if there were   
anything worth reading in our file room, we wouldn't   
still have one standing."  
  
"Agreed," said Wufei. "We may have wasted valuable   
time at the police fire- particularly since what they   
were after there is-"  
  
"Someplace safe," Quatre interrupted, with a glance   
about the room that reminded all of them that despite   
the friendly uniforms worn by the others here, there   
might be very unfriendly listeners all too close for   
comfort.  
  
"I really hate this," Duo said for all of them. "But,   
no worries, I've got a plan."  
  
"May your gods and mine preserve us," said Wufei.  
  
"Quiet, man, I'm serious."  
  
"Alright, Maxwell, what is your plan?"  
  
"We find you-know-who. We make sure the kids are   
okay. Then we go break a few heads."  
  
"The idea does have some appeal," Trowa said, "but I   
think we'll have to stand in line."  
  
"Hey, I'm cool with that," said Duo, "but I'm gonna   
talk this over with Milliardo. I want a piece of   
Nichol. /You/ guys can stand in line."  
  
"I think every Preventer who really meant their oath   
wants a piece of him," Wufei said. "Hmm. Perhaps the   
rest of us can sell tickets..."  
  
"There's an idea," said Trowa. He sighed as his cell   
phone began to ring, and picked it up. "Barton." He   
listened for a moment, sighed again. "Of course,   
John. We'll let you know." Trowa hung up, looking   
troubled. "That was John Ling. David's missing."  
  
"And as long as we're searching for half the city   
anyway...?" Duo asked.  
  
Trowa nodded. "He asked if we'd keep an eye out for   
him, that's all, and Lady Une seems to be worried   
about it, too."  
  
"We'll find him, Trowa," Quatre said in an attempt to   
reassure his lover, who looked troubled at the   
thought of the missing children. "We'll find them   
all."  
  
"Hey, Trowa, can I borrow that?" Duo asked, and Trowa   
passed him the phone. He dialed a number.   
  
"Yuy, what?"  
  
"Hey, Heero, man, how goes it?"  
  
"Quiet here," Heero said. "You?"  
  
"Oh, you know, the usual crap. Listen, keep an eye   
out for David Ling, huh?"  
  
Heero sighed. "Right. Don't tell me Mariemaia's   
boyfriend was stupid enough to wander off."  
  
"He's a good kid," Duo said, "I just don't think he   
/thinks/ sometimes, you know? His father's pretty   
worried, and so's Lady Une, we think. Hard to tell   
with her, but..."  
  
"Yeah," Heero said. "We'll keep our eyes open over   
here."  
  
"Thanks, pal," Duo said.   
  
* * *  
  
Lady Une leaned upon Epyon II, her back against its   
blue and white leg. After a moment she slid into a   
sitting position on the foot of the Gundam, and Une   
brushed a strand of hair out of her eye with a sigh.  
  
"We've been through much together, haven't we, old   
friend?" she asked the refurbished mobile suit.   
Howard and the other Preventer techs had kept it in   
good repair since the days before the twins were   
born, but Une had continued to do most of the work   
herself. It was one of the few things she kept from   
her days with OZ, a belief Treize had instilled in   
her that the best of pilots looked after their own   
machinery. And it pleased her, to with her own hands   
care for this thing which Treize had built. She took   
such little pleasure from anything now- her children,   
a mobile suit older than two of three of those   
children, and occasional fleeting glimpses of her   
dead lover's ghost.  
  
"What a life I have come to lead," Une said. "And I   
had never imagined that it might be like this, the   
struggles or the pain, or this crushing, horrible   
loneliness." She glanced skyward, past the Gundam's   
head at the darkening horizon. "I envy Catherine and   
Dorothy, and the others, more than I should. And I   
miss you so, Treize, sometimes it seems like I can't   
go on. But I must, I know that. It's not over yet,   
not for me, and there's still too much left to do.   
But I am so tired, so very tired..."  
  
She sighed again, and her shoulders sagged, her head   
falling into her hands, long hair spilling over her   
arms. Une wept softly, as she was prone to doing in   
moments like these, and after a time it seemed that   
she felt a familiar touch on her shoulders, drawing   
her back, drawing her head up, gentle hands brushing   
back her hair and soft lips kissing away her tears.  
  
Before she knew it she was no longer alone on Epyon's   
foot, but Treize sat with her, held her as she cried   
against his spectral shoulder for a time. "Hush now,   
Lady, love, hush now, it's alright..." And when the   
tears went on, he tipped her chin up towards him.   
"You are stronger than you know, my love. And you   
always have been."  
  
"Treize-"  
  
"No, it's true," he said. "It is true, and you must   
accept it. You must."  
  
Une nodded, unable to speak. He sighed, and kissed   
the top of her head. "I can't stay long. I never can,   
I know. But your need called me."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be sorry," Treize said, and kissed her, that   
soft, almost too gentle to even be felt, kiss of his   
ghostly form. "It is no hardship for me to come to   
you when I can. It's all I can do." /And if it costs   
me strength, if it costs me some of my power for a   
time, then the price is more than worth it,/ he   
thought, resolved that she should never know these   
things. /And if the time comes when it must be so, I   
would lay it all aside for her. Anything, my dear   
lady, you need only ask- I wonder that you don't know   
that./  
  
"Have you seen the children lately?" Une asked.  
  
"I see many things," Treize told her, "and I look in   
on you all as I said I would."  
  
"They are amazing, aren't they?" Une said. "They grow   
so fast, my little ones- oh, Treize, where does the   
time go? It seems just the other day they were born,   
and we thought we had troubles enough then, but now,   
now- it is so much worse, I don't know...I see   
Mariemaia now, and she is so full of rage. We've all   
come to hate Linnea, and Nichol, and whomever else,   
but Mariemaia-" Une shook her head. "She is truly   
your daughter, my love, for she has your temper."  
  
"That she does," Treize said with a laugh, "and I   
know it well. Mariemaia will be alright, Une- you   
must believe that. She isn't the child she was when   
you brought her into your life, and she will manage   
better than you think. Though it troubles me, too-   
but perhaps we shouldn't worry. She has a good and   
true friend in Carolyn, and that girl was always   
sensible. Calm, for the most part. Press her, though,   
and she'll fight like a lion."  
  
"Yes," Une said, "she's a lot like /both/ of her   
mothers in that." She reached a hand up towards his   
cheek. "I'm sorry, love, to fill this small time we   
may have with things like this..."  
  
"I don't mind," Treize said. "I see a great deal, but   
I miss conversation. I miss being able to talk about   
my children." He sighed and glanced back over his   
shoulder, as if he saw something she could not. "I   
must go, lady." Treize held her tight another moment,   
then took her hand in his and kissed it. "Is there   
anything I can do for you? You have only to ask, and   
if it's within my power-"  
  
"I don't know if you are permitted," Une said, "but   
if you can tell me where Elena and Sarah are?"  
  
Treize shook his head. "I can't interfere that much,   
I am sorry to say. But I have faith in you all- you   
will find them. Milliardo will move every stone on   
Earth and every star in space to find his daughter,   
too."  
  
"Very true," Une agreed. "Something else, then. Do   
you know where David Ling is, Treize? I don't know if   
you know of him-" It seemed to Une that the ghost   
winced, but she could not be sure. "He and Mariemaia   
are close, and he went missing the same day as the   
other two-"  
  
Again Treize shook his head. "Forgive me, Lady, but I   
cannot grant what you ask of me now, either. Would   
that I could." /Gods, how it pains me to lie to her,/   
he thought, /but I would not be the least bit happy   
if I were permitted to tell her the truth of that.   
Oh, no, my dear lady, I would not that you knew it,   
none of you, ever, that the one our daughter held so   
dear has betrayed you all. You will know, one day-   
more to the point, /she/ will know, but I will not   
bring that day sooner than it must be./  
  
"Treize," Une said, and he smiled at her.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Would you, then, keep an extra close watch on   
Mariemaia- and Carolyn, calming influence though she   
may be?"  
  
"Of course," Treize said. "/That/, I can do." He   
embraced her again and stood. /The leave-taking is   
always so hard,/ he thought. /Strange that I thought   
it would grow easier. "Farewell, lady." He turned   
away- and paused, then looked back. "My dear Une?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"See that you get some rest before the week is out,   
please. You work too hard, as you always have."  
  
"I'll do my best to take your advice," Une said.  
  
"Who said anything about giving advice, love?" Treize   
asked. "Oh yes, one other thing- please eat   
something, Une. If you don't, I may have to take   
matters into my own hands."  
  
"Really?" Une asked, amused. "And what will you do,   
then?"  
  
"I- Why, I'll haunt Alice long enough to tell her how   
little care you've taken of yourself lately," Treize   
said triumphantly, smiling.  
  
"You wouldn't dare!" Une laughed.  
  
"Try me," Treize replied. He bowed. "Good eve, my   
love."  
  
Une settled back against Epyon's foot, watching him   
fade even as he walked away along the path. She   
sighed. "Good night, Treize." 


	14. Night

Disclaimers and other junk: Treize, Lady Une, Mariemaia, and the rest of  
the gang belong to other people. Alice, Carolyn and the kids are mine;  
Death, the Dark Knight, and various other creepy personages belong to  
themselves.  
Warnings: implied yuri (DxC), yaoi (3x4). More like shounen ai and  
shoujo ai, really.  
Pairings of note: 13x11, 6x9, the aforementioned DxC, 3x4. Also 5xSP,  
1xR, 2xH.  
  
Ghost Knight  
Chapter 14  
by Anne Khushrenada  
  
/I want to go home,/ Elena thought as she gazed out the window of the  
room she now shared with Sarah on Linnea's estate. She saw the sun  
setting over fields that seemed to go on forever, empty and lonely.  
Trees rimmed their edges and kept her from seeing any farther, but she  
had the idea that she was very far out into the country, that the city  
was miles away- though in what direction, she couldn't say.  
  
/I want to go home,/ she thought again.  
  
It was a simple desire, something she might've said a hundred times  
before, but she'd never wanted it anywhere near as badly as she did  
right then. Just to go home and be back to playing games with her  
friends, teasing her brother, yelling at Lucian for being so stubborn as  
to get sick and not tell anybody about it...  
  
But Elena shook her head. Whatever she wanted, the fact was that she was  
stuck here, until she found a way out or someone else found one for her.  
She was sure that her parents and the others were doing everything they  
could to find her and Sarah, but she wasn't about to sit around waiting  
for them.  
  
Elena looked at the window again, ignoring the view this time and  
concentrating on the opening and locking mechanisms. When she thought  
she'd figured out how it worked, she took hold of it and gave the window  
a hard shove. It made no sound of protest as she pushed at it- but it  
didn't move, either. There was no reason for it not to have opened even  
a little, at least not that she could see- but then she shaded her eyes  
against the glare of the setting sun and took another look.  
  
That's when she saw the lock. Alongside the simple slide bar that  
would've locked the window from the inside there was a keyhole, and  
without the key that fit it, the slide bar wasn't going anywhere.  
  
"Figures," Elena said. "It's locked."  
  
From her place on one of the cots shoved off to the side of the room,  
Sarah nodded. "Could we break it?" the younger girl asked softly.  
  
Elena looked at the window again, then took a look at the bookcases  
along one wall. In between the small groups of books there were a few  
pieces of pottery, vases and sculptures. Sarah was looking at them, too.  
  
"These look pretty heavy," she said. "Could we maybe...?"  
  
"I don't know," Elena said, looking out the window again. "We're on the  
third floor, I think- maybe the fourth, it's hard to tell- and there  
isn't a ledge out there or anything that I can see."  
  
"No trees?" Sarah asked hopefully.  
  
"No trees, either. And even if we /could/ get down, the only way to get  
out of here is to run straight across those fields."  
  
"They'd see us," Sarah said.  
  
"They'd see us," Elena agreed. She scratched her chin and sighed. "I  
could throw one of those vases at David next time he comes."  
  
"Would that get us out of here?"  
  
"Probably not. It'd make me feel better, though."  
  
Sarah didn't say anything for a few moments. "Elena?"  
  
"Yeah, Sare?"  
  
"Are they looking for us?"  
  
"I'm sure they are, sweetheart, and if we can't get out of here on our  
own, they'll help us."  
  
"I wanna go home now," Sarah said. "Not later, now."  
  
"I know," Elena said. "Me, too. Me, too." She sighed. "Look, let's try  
not to think about it anymore, alright? I'll take another look when the  
sun's up tomorrow, and maybe I can see something then."  
  
Sarah nodded, unhappily.  
  
"Try and get some sleep," the older girl advised, but even when she'd  
returned to her own cot, she lay awake for what felt like hours, staring  
at the ceiling above her head, wondering if she would ever see home  
again- if she'd ever see her friends, Terra and Lucian and Lewis, or her  
brother Galen, or her parents...   
  
"Elena?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Are you crying?"  
  
"No, honey."  
  
She lied, of course.  
  
* * *  
  
David was waiting for Linnea when she came home. He stood in the  
downstairs hall by the front door, trembling half with rage and half  
with fear.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Linnea snapped. "I told you to stay close to  
the girls-"  
  
"I was thinking about that, and if you want them to think you're their  
friend, they need to keep seeing /me/ as their enemy."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Yeah. Like good cop, bad cop. I'm the bad cop."  
  
"You," Linnea said, "are pathetic. If you can't follow simple  
instructions-"  
  
"We had a visitor while you were gone," David said. "A weird one."  
  
He might have imagined it, but Linnea seemed to shudder. "Tell me."  
  
"I didn't catch her name, but she-" He cut himself off, unable to  
describe it, and began to unbutton his shirt. David shrugged it off his  
shoulders and turned his back to her.  
  
He heard Linnea's heels click on the floor as she approached him. She  
examined the marks razor-sharp nails had carved into his back and  
shoulders, and tapped them with a finger.  
  
"No blood," she mused.  
  
"No. No blood, just cold- and a lot of pain." David put his shirt back  
on and turned back to face her. "Look, I don't want to know where you  
found this crazy witch or who she is, okay? But I didn't sign on for  
this, and I'm not sticking around for it, either."  
  
"Yes," Linnea said flatly, "you are. For one thing, my threat to reveal  
your betrayal to Lady Une and her wretched daughter was not an idle  
one."  
  
"I'd rather deal with Mariemaia than that friend of yours, lady."  
  
"And," Linnea continued as if David hadn't said anything, "if you think  
you can walk away with her marks upon you, you're stupider than I  
thought."  
  
"I'd rather be stupid or dead than meet up with her again. I mean it."  
  
"Try it," she snapped. "See how far you get."  
  
David shrugged. "Any distance is better than none. By the way, the witch  
seemed pretty pissed at you. She didn't say why and I didn't ask, but  
she threatened to kill us all, and I have this feeling she could do it."  
  
"Let me worry about her," Linnea said.  
  
"Thanks anyway, but I don't trust you to worry about anything except  
your own skin."  
  
* * *  
  
Mariemaia sat in the last pew of the small hospital chapel, perfectly  
still, hoping she'd be out of the priest's immediate line of sight when  
he returned, and that he wouldn't see her. It seemed, though, that he  
was one of those people who didn't miss much. Mariemaia was pretty sure  
he did see her. Father Thomas Gideon nodded politely to her as he went  
up the aisle. He didn't say anything, and turned his back on her to  
light the candles upon the alter. She realized he was giving her time to  
leave, and that she probably could slip out before he turned back. He  
might hear her do it, but he wouldn't stop her.  
  
Mariemaia sighed, and stayed put.  
  
The priest finished with the candles and pocketed what appeared to be a  
cigarette lighter. Mariemaia couldn't help laughing.  
  
"That's a new one," she said. "You smoke?"  
  
Father Thomas shrugged. "Yes, actually."  
  
"Isn't that a sin or something?"  
  
"Only against myself, I think. I'm Catholic, and one of my teachers used  
to tell me that we're not really living unless we're suffering or  
feeling guilty for something. Or both."  
  
"If I ask if I can bum a smoke, are you going to throw me out?"  
  
He shook his head. "No. Anyone is welcome here, Mariemaia."  
  
"Even a really strange...? I don't even know what I am anymore."  
  
"No one is as strange as they think they are, and, well..." He paused.  
"Did it occur to you that I'm a little old for this job? That I should  
have a position somewhere in the city more in keeping with my age and  
wisdom?"  
  
Mariemaia shrugged. "I hadn't really thought about it."  
  
"I should, and I might still get it, if I were a little less  
tolerating."  
  
"Oh?" she asked.  
  
"I believe that God is different things to different people, that what  
you see and how you believe is a personal thing, and it's not anyone's  
place to tell you that what you believe is right or wrong."  
  
"So, what, you're not xenophobic enough for the Church?"  
  
He shook his head. "No. I guess I'm not."  
  
"Doesn't sound so terrible of a crime," Mariemaia said.  
  
"It depends on your point of view- or so I'm told." He approached the  
pew and stood beside it. "May I?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
Father Thomas sat down next to her. "You came back. I wasn't sure you  
would."  
  
"Neither was I, but...it's quiet here. My world's been awful loud  
lately. There's so much to do I've hardly been able to think. Things  
keep going wrong for us. I've been working, trying to fix some things- I  
can't really talk about them, but I wasn't getting anywhere, so I  
decided to come visit my brother and my friend."  
  
"How are they doing?"  
  
"Better, I guess. Carolyn may get to go home in a day or so, but  
Lucian's stuck for a while." Mariemaia smiled. "Stubborn brat. Kept  
insisting he wasn't sick, till what started out a cold turned into  
pneumonia."  
  
"Yes, Alice told me."  
  
"Alice?" Mariemaia asked.  
  
"Yes. Alice McKenzie- I believe she works for your mother? Alice and her  
cousin Gabriel were part of my congregation when I had one."  
  
"I didn't know that," Mariemaia said. "I guess... I guess there's a lot  
I don't know." She sighed. "Look, I'm sorry about before. I shouldn't  
have yelled at you. it's not your fault my life has been totally screwed  
up, or that my grandfather was some kind of fanatic..."  
  
"You're angry about what happened to you, and what's happened to your  
family. I understand."  
  
"People are always telling me that my attitude needs work. I should also  
probably warn you that I don't have much in the way of social skills."  
  
"You seem to be doing alright to me," the priest said.  
  
"Thanks, but watch the news next time those damned reporters catch up  
with me. Then you'll see what I mean."  
  
"Maybe I'll do that. Is there anything I can do for you?"  
  
Mariemaia shrugged. "Well, if you could keep an eye out for my  
boyfriend..." She fished a picture out of her wallet. "David Ling. I  
sort of doubt he'll show up here- religion's really not his thing, but  
if you do see him..."  
  
"You're worried about him."  
  
"Yeah, I guess I am. I mean, it's probably not connected, but, two of my  
'cousins' are abducted, /my/ best friend gets hurt..." She shook her  
head. "It's just /weird/, you know? And David is... David's the kind of  
guy who wouldn't be late to dinner without calling and telling you  
exactly how long it'd take him to drive to meet you. This is /not/ like  
him."  
  
"I'll keep an eye out for him," Father Thomas promised. "I do hope he's  
alright- that all of you are, in the end."  
  
"Yeah." Mariemaia sighed. "If you think it'd help... Let's just say I'm  
starting to think your prayers really couldn't hurt anything."  
  
* * *  
  
The Place Between Worlds  
  
The three cloaked women appeared out of nowhere, and it was clear that  
they did not belong. Their garments were dark grey, almost black, and  
they walked through the snow of the Place's unnatural winter as if  
everything they saw belonged to them.  
  
Death apperated before them with a sigh. "So it has come to this."  
  
"The patterns unravel," said the oldest of the three. "We did not weave  
this."  
  
"No," Death said. "I didn't think that you had."  
  
"Can you explain this?" the eldest asked.  
  
"Can you?" he countered.  
  
"Fetch your Ghost Knight and his squire, and we shall settle this."  
  
"Leave them be, Atropos. They are doing everything in their power to fix  
this."  
  
"So now you defend them," Atropos said. "Why?"  
  
"Because they are /mine/," Death snapped. Before Atropos could say  
anything else- which she seemed about to do- he raised a hand and  
snapped his skeletal fingers. "Ghost Knight!"  
  
Treize strode towards them, one hand on his hip. "You rang, my lord?" he  
asked in a mocking tone.  
  
Death heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Where is Walker?"  
  
"Do I look like his keeper? Out there-" Treize gestured vaguely over his  
shoulder. "Somewhere."  
  
"This is unacceptable," Atropos said. "Find him. At once."  
  
"Madame," Treize said, "I'm sure you have some reason for your demands,  
which if you would care to explain-"  
  
"I am Atropos, eldest of the sisters of Fate, and I want to know what  
you have done to the Place Between Worlds!"  
  
Treize sighed. "Why is it," he asked of no one in particular, "that  
everyone seems to think this is my fault?"  
  
"Because you have the power-" one of the other Fates started.  
  
"Shut up, Clotho. I'll handle this," Atropos snapped. "You /do/ have the  
power, Ghost Knight."  
  
"Perhaps, but I haven't used it. Not in the way you mean. Why would I?  
For that matter," Treize added, "why would anyone?"  
  
"To drive us all crazy, no doubt," said the middle Fate sister, who had  
thus far been silent.  
  
"I can assure you, I'd have made every effort to avoid that if I'd had  
anything at all to do with this," Treize replied.  
  
"Then perhaps," Lachesis, the middle sister, asked, "your squire can  
shed some light on this?"  
  
"My squire?" Treize asked.  
  
"She means," Death said, "Walker."  
  
"Walker is an ordinary soul," Treize said. "He doesn't have anything to  
do with this."  
  
"We'll be the judge of that. Bring him. /Now/," Atropos said.  
  
Treize sighed. "If you insist." He turned his back to them. "Walker?" he  
asked in a conversational tone. "Sorry to bother you, my friend, but  
these ladies request the pleasure of your company rather urgently. Be a  
good fellow and come join us, hmm?"  
  
Walker appeared beside them. "Hello," he said with a nod to the three  
sisters. "I'm Ethan Walker. What can I do for you?"  
  
"You can explain-" Atropos gestured around them "-/this./"  
  
"Love to," Walker said. "Unfortunately, I don't have a clue. You might,"  
he added, "ask your wayward daughter- the Dark Knight?"  
  
"She is none of your concern!" Clotho said.  
  
"None of yours either, apparently," Walker added. "If you can't look  
after her on your own-"  
  
"Wait a moment," Treize said, holding up a hand. "Walker- if their  
creature could have done this...?"  
  
Walker nodded, and Treize turned back to the Fates.   
  
"How about it, ladies? Is there something you'd like to tell us?" the  
Ghost Knight asked.  
  
"How dare you?" Lachesis asked. "Don't you know who we are?"  
  
"Yes," Treize said. "But as knowing who /we/ are didn't seem to deter  
you much from your own arrogant and perhaps foolish assumptions... I  
assure you," he went on, "that we're doing everything we can to find out  
who did this, and to put things back as they should be once again. But  
that is going to take time, and you will simply have to be more  
patient."  
  
"Be-?" Atropos said. "You can't be serious."  
  
"Oh, I'm serious, alright," Treize said. "If it annoys you that much,  
why don't you just-" he waved a hand "do whatever it is you do, and  
weave it away?"  
  
"Do you have any idea who you're talking to?" she asked.  
  
"Haven't we had this conversation before?" Walker inquired.  
  
Treize nodded. "Yes. We seem to be going around in circles lately, and  
it's not doing much for us, is it?"  
  
Death sighed. "No. Atropos, I could have told you this was hopeless  
before you even began, but-"  
  
"Be quiet," she said. "You- Ghost Knight. We will leave you to your  
aimless little wanderings for now, but know this- however bad you  
consider things to be, they can always get worse. We can insure that  
happens."  
  
"Spare me the theatrics, please," Treize said.   
  
"As you wish," Atropos said. "But mind what we've said, Treize  
Khushrenada. Your life-strand may already have been severed, but there  
are always others-"  
  
Treize took one step forward, then another. He took hold of the eldest  
Fate's shoulders and dug his fingers into her illusion of flesh. "I  
have," he said flatly, "put up with all the threats to my mortal family  
that I'm going to, do you understand? I don't care who you are, or what  
you can do- keep whatever issues are between us, between us." He let her  
go and stepped back. "You'll all excuse me- I have work to do."   
  
He turned away, and no one stopped him.  
  
"Or what?" Clotho asked mockingly. But she said it after Treize was  
gone.  
  
Walker latched onto her arm. "Look," he said quietly, "or nothing,  
alright? Just- don't push him on this one. Whatever you're after, it  
isn't worth it."  
  
"Perhaps not," Lachesis agreed. "But I hope for your sake he's telling  
the truth about not being the cause of any of this."  
  
"Irritating he may be, but my Ghost Knight does not lie," Death said.  
  
"Of course you'd defend him," Clotho said. "We'd expect that of you."  
  
"Did you ladies need something else?" Walker asked. "Or are you just  
sticking around to insult us all?"  
  
"No," Atropos said. "We didn't. And we aren't. Good day, gentlemen."  
  
Walker and Death remained silent after they'd gone. The specter hacked  
an icicle in two with a mighty swing of his scythe, and looked as if he  
might be searching out another one to deal with in a similar fashion.  
  
"I suppose," Death said, "we called you away from something a little  
more useful?"  
  
"/Anything/ would've been more use than listening to that crap," Walker  
said. "Are they always like that?"  
  
"Atropos is annoyed, and the others tend to feed off of whatever she  
projects," Death said. "But even so- no. I've never seen her act quite  
that way before."  
  
"Huh," said Walker. "First time for everything, I guess. Anyway, about  
this Dark Knight..."  
  
"Let's not go there, shall we?"  
  
"Don't tell it to me," Walker said. "Treize wants to see her."  
  
"I don't believe that's wise."  
  
"Yeah? Me neither, but the man still ranks me, you know?"  
  
"Yes," Death sighed. "I know."  
  
Walker gathered up a handful of snow and let it drift through his  
interlaced fingers. "He's serious, you know."  
  
"About meeting the other? Yes, he would be..." Death shook his head. "He  
doesn't understand."  
  
"That's just it- I think that he does. I think it's time to level with  
him."  
  
"He knows too much already."  
  
"He needs to know /everything/ if he's going to settle this one way or  
another, sir. He can't do it with half the facts."  
  
"I will consider it," Death said.  
  
"And- the Dark Knight?"  
  
"I will speak to the other about it. In the end the choice is hers."  
  
"You're telling me the fate of the world may depend on whether she wants  
to see him or not?"  
  
"One doesn't demand things of the Dark Knight, Walker. Not even if that  
one is Death."  
  
"Great," Walker said. "Anything else you'd like to share?"  
  
"Not at the moment, no."  
  
"Great," he said again. "Just great."  
  
* * *  
  
Elena looked up with a sigh when the door opened. By the light from the  
hallway she could see Linnea framed in the doorway.  
  
"What do you want?" the girl asked irritably.  
  
"Only to talk, dear. Only to talk."  
  
"Come back later," Elena said. "We're trying to sleep. It's not as if,"  
she added, "there's anything else to do."  
  
Linnea smiled at her, closed the door, and approached Elena's cot. The  
closer the woman got, the farther away Elena moved, until she was  
sitting with her back pressed against the wall, and nowhere else to go.  
  
"I want you to tell me about Terra."  
  
Elena ignored that. "I said go away. I'm tired."  
  
"Terra is your friend, isn't she?" Linnea asked. "You're very close.  
Tell me everything you know about her."  
  
"You'd like that, I bet," Elena said sharply. "For me to tell you  
everything I know, so you can figure out how to manipulate her, the way  
you try to with everyone else- well, forget it. I'm not telling you a  
damn thing."  
  
"Such a beautiful child," Linnea said, reaching out to stroke Elena's  
pale blonde hair. "Words like that should not come out of your mouth,  
little princess."  
  
"Get your hands off me, lady," Elena said coldly. "Now."  
  
"I understand you're upset, dear, and naturally you're not yourself-"  
  
"/Can it/, lady. Do you really think anyone buys this sweet act of  
yours? You don't understand anything."  
  
"But I do. I know it is hard to be always cast in the shadows of your  
betters, always compared to them and yet never measuring up. Isn't that  
how it is with Terra? Isn't it?"  
  
"No," Elena said, despite her resolve not to answer any of Linnea's  
questions. "Terra is my best friend. It isn't like that."  
  
"Of course not. But if it were- that would be hard, wouldn't it? I'd  
understand if that were the case, Elena, really I would."  
  
"I'm sure," Elena said. "Like you're an expert on hardship? You don't  
even know who you are."  
  
Linnea slapped her. Elena tumbled off the side of the cot from the force  
of the blow, clutching at her cheek.  
  
"I am Linnea Khushrenada," the woman snarled, clearly furious. "I am! I  
am Terra's legal guardian, and she will come here to join us, and when  
she does, she will know her place. And you will help me show her where  
that place is." Linnea seemed to calm down, and she smiled again, that  
horrible smile that made Elena want to cringe and hide away. "Terra's  
bloodlines are almost pure, you know, and it would be such a shame to  
see them go to waste... You'll help me, won't you, dear, sweet child?"  
  
"I'd rather eat glass." Elena paused. "I'd rather get out of here and go  
home, and go see you in a mental ward someday after they've figured out  
what's wrong with you, because, lady, something sure as hell is."  
  
"How dare you-"  
  
"You talk about bloodlines, like the old Romafeller families are so much  
better than anybody else- well, let me tell you something, lady. My  
family is older than /that/, and it doesn't matter- it doesn't matter  
for anything, don't you get that? It's who you make yourself, not who  
you're born, that matters." Elena stared her down with steely blue eyes  
that didn't blink. "But if you want to go that way, that's fine with me.  
Do you know who /I/ am, Linnea? How pure /my/ blood is? I'm the daughter  
of queens and kings and soldiers, and my blood has faced worse than you,  
and survived."  
  
"Your grandparents might beg to differ."  
  
"The future survives," Elena said. "Aunt Relena survived, and so did my  
father."  
  
Linnea shrugged. "However you'd like to see it, of course, but- Ah, my  
dear, Terra's father was leader of the World Nation. /That/ blood is  
hers."  
  
"So?"  
  
"Terra is oldest, she should be queen."  
  
"Oh," Elena said, shaking her head. "I get it. She'll be queen, and all  
along you'll be there, whispering in her ear, telling her what to do,  
right? You think she's going to stand for that? You actually think I'll  
/help/ you talk her into that? You're crazy, lady. Now go away. And  
please, if you want to talk to me again, wait till a reasonable hour.  
There's no need to be so rude."  
  
Elena Peacecraft climbed back onto her cot, turned away from Linnea, and  
closed her eyes. And if she didn't return to sleep right away, if it  
took her a long time and she wanted to burst into tears and let the sobs  
shake her body, she gave no sign of it, and she did nothing save hold  
still and give every impression of being asleep, without a care in the  
world.   
  
Behind her closed eyes she was thinking hard, so hard that Sarah could  
almost have heard it from across the room. The things Linnea had said,  
and the way she'd said them, the way she lost it when Elena pushed her,  
told the girl more than their captor would ever have suspected. Linnea  
seemed more quick to anger than she had been before, more volatile. She  
was almost always angry now, and if angry people could be dangerous,  
they were also often careless. Sooner or later, Linnea's anger might  
translate into the sort of carelessness that would enable Elena and  
Sarah to make their way home, one way or another.  
  
Elena sighed, though, as she heard Linnea turn her key in the door's  
lock. Whatever might happen tomorrow, tonight they slept very far away  
from home.  
  
* * *  
  
The long hours after midnight found Mariemaia playing cards with Father  
Thomas and the McKenzies in the waiting room on the floor that now  
housed both Lucian and Carolyn. The priest had proved to be adept at  
magic tricks, and the pack of cards had appeared out of his sleeve. The  
cards alone- real ones, not the paper mockups they'd been using all day  
-would have endeared him to the Preventers, but the fact that two of  
their own vouched for him made the priest an instant hit. He wasn't a  
bad poker player, either.  
  
They'd switched from poker to go fish; it went quicker and required less  
thought to keep up with. They could keep each other company and be alone  
with their thoughts at the same time.  
  
"Are you three," the priest asked while fishing a card off the top of  
the stack, "ever going to be getting any sleep tonight?"  
  
"Doubt it," Alice said. "Gabe and I have been off duty since about  
sundown, but as long as we're here, no one else has to be, and we can  
all at least pretend Lady Une's resting easier back home." She shrugged.  
"Got any fives, Father? Anyway, Gabe and I- 'specially me, I guess-  
We're just about the next best thing to her being here herself, which I  
guess is why she took over going through those files and sent me back  
here."  
  
"So what it amounts to is that they're pulling a double shift but not  
calling it that," Mariemaia said.  
  
Thomas nodded. "Hmm. Fives, did you say? Rats- alright, here's two of  
them. The Preventers do have night guards here; I've seen them."  
  
"Yeah," Gabe agreed, "but outside us charter members, we're not really  
sure who we can trust. Better nobody's here at all then a couple more  
Nichols, I'd say."  
  
"He must be troubled," Thomas said.  
  
Alice gave him the sort of fond look generally reserved for eccentric  
relatives or young children. "Trouble, period, is more like it."  
  
"One can be both, you know."  
  
"I'll buy that," Mariemaia said, "but hey, it's late, let's not argue.  
When we arrest Nichol for kidnapping and assault, you can go give him  
spiritual advice."  
  
"I can do that," Alice said. "Pray really, really hard."  
  
"I believe God answers all prayers," Gabe said. "Sometimes the answer is  
'no'."  
  
"I agree," Thomas said, "but we shouldn't mock him-"  
  
"Why the hell not?" Mariemaia asked. "Pathetic or otherwise, he messed  
with my family- with /our/ family -and that's something you shouldn't  
do. I could wish I were a different kind of person, but it's not within  
me to forgive that sort of thing. Or much of anything else for that  
matter."  
  
"I hate to sound like a cynic-" Alice began.  
  
"You /are/," her cousin interrupted.  
  
"But I have to agree with Mariemaia on this one. I'm saving my sympathy  
for the ones who really deserve it. Like Sarah, and Elena."  
  
Which pretty much ended /that/ discussion, as it had been intended to.  
In the silence that followed, Alice gathered up the cards and dealt them  
out again.  
  
* * *  
  
"She's where?" Sally asked her husband.  
  
"In the waiting room, playing cards with a priest," Wufei answered. "And  
the McKenzies," he added as an afterthought.  
  
"Huh," was Sally's only comment. "And the others...?"  
  
"Catherine and Dorothy have the children, except for the two in the  
hospital, who have Gabe and Alice watching over them-"  
  
"Okay," Sally said with a laugh. "I get the point. Everyone's taken care  
of, so I should take care of myself, is that it?"  
  
"You," Wufei said, "are nearly as bad as Lady Une. When did you last  
eat? Or sleep, for that matter?"  
  
Sally twisted a lock of hair around her finger and didn't answer.  
  
"I thought as much," Wufei said. "Come on."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Nothing. Someone will call if they need us. Come with me. I made  
dinner. Well, breakfast now, I suppose."  
  
"You did?" Sally asked with a smile. "Okay. This I have to see."  
  
* * *  
  
In one of the guest rooms at Dorothy and Catherine's, Lucrezia finally  
gave up trying to sleep. She slipped out of bed, being careful not to  
wake her husband, and wandered out to the kitchen. She smiled wryly as  
she saw Relena sitting at the table with a cup of tea in front of her.  
  
"You couldn't sleep either, huh?" the younger woman asked.  
  
Lucrezia shook her head. "No. I know there's nothing I can do right now,  
but..."  
  
"Doesn't help much, does it?" Relena asked. It wasn't really a question.  
  
Lucrezia turned away to look out the window over the sink. "The sun's  
almost up."  
  
"Pretty," Relena said as she joined her sister-in-law before the window.  
  
"Yeah," Lucrezia agreed. She shrugged. "Everybody still here?"  
  
Relena shook her head. "Sally and Wufei went home. They left Lewis."  
  
Lucrezia nodded. "I think the kids are doing better staying together."  
  
"I think so, too." Relena sighed. "The girls will be alright, Lucrezia.  
They've got each other."  
  
"I just hope that's enough." 


	15. Ice

Disclaimers and other junk: Treize, Lady Une, Mariemaia, and the rest of  
the gang belong to other people. Alice, Carolyn and the kids are mine;  
Death, the Dark Knight, and various other creepy personages belong to  
themselves.  
Warnings: implied yuri (DxC), yaoi (3x4). More like shounen ai and  
shoujo ai, really.  
Pairings of note: 13x11, 6x9, the aforementioned DxC, 3x4. Also 5xSP,  
1xR, 2xH.  
  
Ghost Knight  
Chapter 15  
by Anne Khushrenada  
  
She dreamed in the dark, covers pulled up over her head, face pressed  
against her pillow. As if even in sleep she did not want to see.   
  
Not that there was a lot to see, even in her dreams.  
  
At first there was only the dark, and silence, but then there came a  
voice, a voice that seemed to be whispering her name.  
  
/"Mariemaia."/  
  
It was a woman's voice, and she did not know it. The voice seemed to be  
waiting for an answer, but Mariemaia had no idea what to say. She wasn't  
sure she wanted to say anything at all.  
  
/"Mariemaia, Ghost Knight's daughter."/  
  
Who, even in her own dreams, knew that name? She had only heard it once,  
when she had gone to her father's grave and he had spoken into her mind.  
From that Mariemaia had grasped that it was a secret thing, a private  
one, and seldom did she think it even to herself. Though the Ghost  
Knight certainly seemed a thing her father could be, and the title  
suited him even if she didn't know quite what it meant.  
  
And yet at some level she /did/ know. It was the otherworldly in her  
father's voice and expression, the way his eyes saw more than she  
thought hers ever could. It was the truths he knew and the secrets he  
would never tell, and in her heart Mariemaia knew it, though she did not  
know how.  
  
Perhaps that was why the voice called to her with those words.  
/Mariemaia, Ghost Knight's daughter./ Perhaps that voice, in saying  
that, knew her better than she did herself.  
  
/"Danger arises, eldest of the Khushrenada blood. It arises, and it  
comes."/  
  
"Thank you, Obi-Wan Kenobi," Mariemaia said. "We did sort of figure that  
out for ourselves."  
  
"You see some dangers, and yet are blind to others," the voice replied,  
aloud now. "You would let it destroy you before you'd be willing to  
understand."  
  
"Maybe I don't care," Mariemaia said, "what destroys me and what  
doesn't."  
  
"You will learn too late that you care too greatly. When you understand  
the depth of the betrayal."  
  
Mariemaia blinked and shook her head. Suddenly she could see, amid the  
darkness growing lighter now, what seemed to be a pair of violet eyes.  
The eyes watched her, and they were almost compassionate somehow.  
Almost, but not quite.  
  
"I know betrayal," Mariemaia said. "I've seen it before."  
  
"Not like this, you haven't. You know a few secrets, and so like a fool  
you believe you know them all. Well, Ghost Knight's daughter, you  
don't."  
  
Mariemaia sighed. "There's a hell of a lot I don't know. I get by."  
  
The eyes moved, as if their owner were shaking her head. "Child,  
child..."  
  
"Oh, stop with that already," Mariemaia snapped. "You know my name, and  
you know who my father is. You should know I've never been a child."  
  
"No," the voice agreed. "You have not been." The outline of a woman  
appeared before her, though the silhouette was strange. It took  
Mariemaia a moment to realize the strange curves and angles belonged to  
the armor she wore. "And this is what it has done to you. See how bitter  
these years find you, Mariemaia Khushrenada? Your blood, your past, have  
made you what you are."  
  
"Clearly," said Mariemaia.  
  
"But think- What would these same things make someone else? The same  
lack of a childhood, similar pains and betrayals... the similar loss of  
the things that mattered."  
  
"I don't know," Mariemaia replied. "It depends, I suppose. When I  
lost...what I lost, I found Lady Une. I found a world to take the place  
of what I'd had before."  
  
"And if you had not?"  
  
Mariemaia shuddered. "I could have become..." She didn't want to think  
about the details, or see them in her mind's eye. Not now, not ever.  
  
But the armored woman understood, or seemed to. "Yes. At the end of the  
road, that may be what you face. Yourself, as you might have been, as  
you almost were. She planned it that way, of course. Probably finds it  
amusing. She doesn't understand. The other is dangerous, but you have  
power enough to shake the worlds, all of them."  
  
"I don't understand," Mariemaia said quietly. "I don't understand a word  
of this. Who is she? What has she planned? And who is this other?"  
  
"If I could tell you, I would," the woman replied. "I can't. Some would  
say I have said too much already. But there are some rules that do not  
bind me, and quite a few who will not cross me. I am sorry you cannot  
make more sense of my words yet. Perhaps you will understand them in  
time. I hope you will."  
  
"In time for what?" Mariemaia asked. Of all the questions lingering in  
her mind, she did not know why she asked that one, why it came so  
quickly to her lips.  
  
"I can't tell you that, either," the woman said. "I'm sorry. Keep to the  
path you're on, Mariemaia. I can say no more."  
  
"Can you tell me your name?" She didn't know what the woman's name  
mattered, either, but suddenly she very much wanted to know what it was.  
  
"Always with you it's the questions I can't answer, isn't it? Heed the  
words I've given you, Mariemaia Khushrenada. Heed them well."  
  
And before she could say anything more, the figure vanished. The dream,  
if that was what it was, went with her, and Mariemaia slept on, though  
some part of her subconscious mind turned the woman's words over and  
over, seeking to unlock their meaning.  
  
* * *  
  
Truce Ground of the Avatars  
  
Mortals thought of the place as Purgatory, and in some respects they  
weren't far wrong. For the avatars, those such as the Fates and Death,  
and those who served them, it was neutral ground. They met there when  
doing so elsewhere was out of the question.  
  
Treize and the Dark Knight had come to the Truce Ground for just that  
reason. The Place Between Worlds was far too crowded, and she had flatly  
refused to allow him entrance to her realm. For his part, Treize was  
just as glad; he wasn't sure he would have wanted to make that trip.  
  
He'd arrived a few moments early for their meeting, the meeting which  
Death had- reluctantly, Treize thought- arranged, and had found the Dark  
Knight preoccupied with something. And so he'd watched silently, until  
he had realized what she was doing.  
  
At first he had been angry. He'd been very close to telling her to stay  
the hell away from his daughter- But then he'd begun to listen to what  
the Dark Knight was saying.  
  
Her words were cryptic; Treize supposed they would have had to be. But  
she'd said as much as she could, more than /he/ had been able to, and  
with luck Mariemaia would have sense enough to take the warnings to  
heart.  
  
Treize hoped so, anyway. He would have warned Mariemaia himself if it  
had been allowed, but it was not. And so the vague warnings of a spirit  
he didn't trust would have to be enough.  
  
"That was kind of you," the Ghost Knight said. It was as close as he  
planned to come to thanking her for what she'd done.  
  
"Kinder than you expected?" the Dark Knight shot back, without turning  
to face him. She sounded bitter enough about it that Treize considered  
apologizing. Almost.  
  
"Yes. I can't help but wonder what you wish to gain by it."   
  
"Perhaps it is an attempt on my part to curry favor?" she asked.  
  
"With whom? Me?" Treize shook his head. "It is a good beginning."  
  
She nodded. "You wanted to see me. Why?"  
  
"I could spend decades chasing rumor and legend. I don't have time." He  
watched her carefully, much as he could with the other spirit hidden  
beneath her armor. "I came to find the truth."  
  
"From me?" The Dark Knight shook her head; she seemed amused. "You came  
seeking the truth- from /me/? Oh, they were right about you, Ghost  
Knight. I have not seen the like since- Well."  
  
Treize crossed his arms, leaned forward. "You do not wish to waste my  
time," he said.  
  
"Oh, but I do. Haven't you heard the stories?"  
  
"I have heard them," he said. "They are fragments which contradict each  
other."  
  
"Of course," she said. "What do you think a legend /is/, Ghost Knight?"  
  
"A continent framework upon which any story that suits you can be  
built," Treize countered.  
  
"Perhaps my version of events might show a personal bias?" the Dark  
Knight asked.  
  
"Perhaps it might." He paused. "Very well. Would you care to tell me the  
truth beneath the story?"  
  
She shook her head. "That is not something I can do. We both have our  
limits. As you've seen."  
  
He nodded. "Imagine my surprise, to come here and find you dreamwalking  
with my daughter, and to find you trying to help her, of all things."  
  
"You still don't understand it." She shook her head. "No. You still  
don't /trust/ it."  
  
"No. I don't."  
  
"You may be smarter than I thought."  
  
"How...kind," said Treize.  
  
She laughed. "I can see I'm going to enjoy this. Let me tell you  
something, and you can decide for yourself if it is true. Your daughter  
has power- she has not come into it yet, but one day she will. When that  
happens, perhaps she will be reminded of what I have done."  
  
Treize's eyes narrowed. "You play with fire more than I think you  
realize."  
  
"You're a fool."  
  
"No. Mariemaia is Khushrenada, she /is/ fire. Beware of what may become  
of you if you touch her."  
  
A laugh came from beneath that strange armor. "A threat. Oh, how  
quaint."  
  
"I," Treize said quietly, "have had my share of enemies. Most of them  
proved worthy of the name."  
  
She spun to face him then, a quick flash of eyes- violet, perhaps-  
showing anger. "Enemies," she snapped. "What do you know of enemies?  
Upstart-"  
  
"Your equal," Treize cut off the tirade at its beginning, "or we would  
not be having this conversation."  
  
She dipped her head in a nod. "No. We wouldn't."  
  
"So. You can't, or won't, answer my questions. Very well. You will  
excuse me, then."  
  
Treize turned away-  
  
"I marked the boy," her voice called after him.   
  
Over his shoulder, he asked, "What boy?"  
  
"David Ling."  
  
"Was it painful for him?"  
  
She laughed. "Very."  
  
"Ah," said Treize. "Don't expect me to thank you for that- I'm sure it  
was in your own best interest somehow."  
  
The Dark Knight shrugged. "Perhaps. Suppose one wanted the unbiased  
truth of the legends. To whom might they go?"  
  
"The Voice of History, one of Time's avatars, knows every tale ever  
passed along around a campfire, every story or legend written down. She  
would know."  
  
"And this Voice of History- Is she speaking to you at the moment?"  
  
"We have a long-standing low grade enmity that usually doesn't get in  
the way of our working relationship."  
  
"Hmm," he said. "Thank-"  
  
Treize blinked, and the Dark Knight was gone.  
  
* * *  
  
They were all there, Death and Fate, War and Time, Earth and the others,  
spirits of the smaller things. Death called them, and they came- to the  
Truce Ground in fact, only shortly after Treize and the Dark Knight had  
left it.  
  
"This," Earth said, "Has gotten out of hand."  
  
"I agree," said Atropos of the Fates. "Reign in your creature, Lord of  
Death."  
  
Death gave her a look that was clearly annoyed- his lack of facial  
features did not keep the message from getting through, not to the other  
avatars. War leaned forward, looking interested.  
  
Time sighed.  
  
"Are you still," Death asked, "going to insist upon wasting our time  
with that?"  
  
"Yes-"  
  
"Is it possible," asked the Voice of History, "that he could have done  
it unawares?"  
  
"I believe most things he does to be deliberate," said Death. "Still, he  
protests his innocence in this, and I cannot doubt him."  
  
"/I/ can," said Cloth of the fates.  
  
"/You,/ all three of you, are prejudiced in favor of your Dark Knight,"  
Time pointed out.  
  
"As /he/ is prejudiced in favor of his-" said Lachesis.  
  
"Can we afford anyone's prejudice now, that is the question," said  
Earth. "If the Fates read wrong the threads, what then?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"It was suggested to me," Death spoke into that silence, "that the Ghost  
Knight be leveled with."  
  
"You can't be serious," War said. "The damage he could do-"  
  
"And what of the things he might set right, if he only knew that he  
/could/?" Death countered. "What of that?"  
  
"He knows too much already," War shot back.  
  
"A little knowledge," said History, "is worse, and more dangerous, than  
none at all."  
  
"Do you /support/ this idiocy?" asked Atropos.  
  
"Perhaps you don't understand," said Death. "I did not ask you here to  
take your council. Only to tell you that the choice is made. I felt you  
should be informed of my decision. That is all."  
  
"You /can't/-" said Clotho.  
  
War was laughing. "He can, actually. Preposterous, but there you are."  
  
Death smiled, and turned his gaze to the fates. "You three know more  
than you are telling."  
  
Atropos smiled back at him. "Don't we always."  
  
"I demand to see the Tapestry," Death said.  
  
The Fates gasped as one. "but you can't /read/ it," said Lachesis.  
  
"No, but I have one who can. How much you have forgotten. Voice of  
History, I call upon you! Tell your tale."  
  
"Would you have it so?" the Voice asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Who comes among us in the Ghost Knight's wake, who was comrade in arms  
in life, is he who sees..." History smiled.  
  
"Ordinary, you said," Atropos snapped.  
  
"As ordinary as Khushrenada," said Death. "I have a Seer, Atropos. /The/  
Seer."  
  
"You lied to me. You /lied/."  
  
"Did I?" he said. "Well. And so? I will see the Tapestry, Sisters of  
Fate. It will be done."  
  
"So be it," Fate's eldest sister snarled. "But we will not forget this."  
  
"I wouldn't expect you to," said Death. "By no means should you fail to  
remember."  
  
"Damn you!"  
  
"Oh, very good," said History, quite amused. "That's rather redundant,  
you know."  
  
* * *  
  
Treize found Walker skipping stones across the River. The former soldier  
looked up as Treize approached, and set aside the stone in his hand with  
a wry smile.  
  
"It was more fun when I could feel things," Walker said. "So...?"  
  
Briefly Treize outlined the conversation that had taken place.  
  
"I'm starting to think Death might have been right about her, you know,"  
Walker said when he'd finished.  
  
"Perhaps," Treize said. "But it had to be tried. And it wasn't a  
complete waste of time."  
  
"How do you figure that?"  
  
"Two reasons. One, she told me about the Voice of History."  
  
"Do you trust her?"  
  
"Of course not, but the existence of the Voice is easy enough to check."  
  
"Okay," Walker said. "I'll grant you that one. What's reason two?"  
  
"She slipped," Treize said. "She told me she had marked David Ling."  
  
"What-?" Walker began.  
  
The Ghost Knight shook his head. "No, don't say anything. I want you to  
think on that for a moment or two, if you would."  
  
Walker frowned in thought. "She marked-?"  
  
"I will give you a hint," Treize said. "You and I go to the Well, and  
what images come to the surface, as soon as we are near enough to see?"  
  
"Alice, Lady Une... the children..."  
  
Treize smiled. "Yes."  
  
"She marked him... Are you saying she did intentionally what we've  
done...unconsciously?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"So..." Walker picked up another stone, turned it over in his hand.   
  
"Then answer this for me. Did you know Mariemaia was my daughter before  
I told you?"  
  
Walker frowned again. "Now that you mention it...yes."  
  
"How?"  
  
Walker looked up and smiled. "Because she's /marked/, by God. There's  
something there that says, 'Ghost Knight's daughter'. I can't see it,  
but I can feel it..." The smile grew wider. "Oh. /Oh/! If you can be  
'read' in Mariemaia..."  
  
"Then how the Dark Knight marked the Ling boy may tell us more than she  
might have wanted it to," Treize said.  
  
Walker nodded. "So what are we waiting for? Let's go have a look."  
  
* * *  
  
Treize sat back on his heels, a look of satisfaction upon his face.  
  
"Ice," he whispered.  
  
Death, his back to the Ghost Knight, whirled about at that whisper.  
"/What/ did you say?"  
  
"/Ice/," Treize said aloud. "She marked him, and ice was her weapon."  
  
"I don't know why I didn't see it before," Death sighed.  
  
"Too many shadows," Walker said. "She hides behind them, so that you  
think it's just darkness, but under that-"  
  
"Ice," Treize said again. "We may not yet know /why/, but we certainly  
know /who/." 


End file.
